


Light Through the Leaves

by NedrynWrites



Category: Dragon Quest Series, Dragon Quest XI
Genre: Canon Universe, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dragon Quest XI Act III Spoilers, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Gay Camus | Erik (Dragon Quest XI), Gratuitous Hand-Holding, Hero | Luminary is Named Eleven | El (Dragon Quest XI), M/M, Multi, Mute Hero | Luminary (Dragon Quest XI), Mutual Pining, Pansexual Hero | Luminary (Dragon Quest XI), Selectively Mute Hero | Luminary (Dragon Quest XI), Sharing a Bed, Team as Family, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Vacation, past Derk/Erik, seriously if they go one (1) chapter without holding hands it wasn't intentional
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-17
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2020-06-30 07:53:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 44,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19848811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NedrynWrites/pseuds/NedrynWrites
Summary: < I’d like to spend my vacation… at the library! >Under the shadow of the dark star, the team decides to take a much-needed vacation.  Eleven takes care of some things he didn't have an excuse for before.  Lots of pining happens.





	1. The Vacation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eleven is selectively mute and uses sign language in certain situations. He is able to speak with people he trusts completely one-on-one (think Link in Breath of the Wild), though usually at low volume. The signing he uses is based loosely off ASL, but I didn't necessarily research every phrase - I'm still learning! Parts where sign language is used is depicted with "<" and ">" symbols for clarity's sake.  
> Everyone understands what he's saying, because I said so.  
> No, but really, there are so many cutscenes where he kinda waves his hands and whoever he's talking to magically knows what he needed to tell them, so that's why. 
> 
> Rated Mature for foul language and sexual themes. It's probably okay to just say teen - especially at this point - but I want to play it safe. 
> 
> A million thanks to [omgitsaddyc](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Checoyourself/pseuds/omgitsaddyc) for beta-ing this; I would have literally never mustered the willpower to finish it if not for your encouragement. 
> 
> I originally meant to wait until the whole thing was done and then post one chapter a week while I edited future ones, but I had one shot at being the 69th work in AO3's luminerik tag, so...

On Eleven’s eighteenth birthday, he narrowly escaped losing his childhood friend over the edge of a cliff, getting attacked by monsters all the way. Then the sky lit up with the symbol that was on the back of his hand. He didn’t know it yet, but his peaceful life was over. 

On his nineteenth birthday (the first one, at least), the world tree fell, plunging the world into darkness. Humanity was hunted to the brink of extinction, and he lost the only people who made him feel sane. One of them, he lost forever. Or so he thought. 

On his twentieth, the time sphere shattered. 

And again, his nineteenth: he was able to protect Veronica, his friends, the _world._ But he couldn’t save Jasper for Hendrik’s sake, not even to give this friend turned stranger the chance to say goodbye. Despite everything Jasper had done, destroying his home, taking his best friend, and ripping apart their fellowship, he still felt guilt at watching the man perish in a moment that was practically forgettable. And he soon learned that, in his efforts to make the world better, he unleashed a calamity that made Mordegon look like a _gnat._

Eleven was beginning to really hate his birthday. 

Eleven sweated over the forge. The non-stop minor improvements to his and his friends’ equipment was finally wearing on him. He held it up in the dying light. The helm, with the metal now thickened in the back of the neck, would ensure Hendrik wouldn’t go down to a well-placed nip. Not again. 

He looked past the helmet he held, to see the dark star. Erdwin’s Lantern, or at least what was left of it. A mass of purple and black smoke spread from the center, not so much a glowing star as a circle blotting out the sky. It was as if it were eating the light around it. But now, there was something about it that struck Eleven as oddly familiar. 

That curl of smoke, to the west side-

_“That bit, there,” Erik says, pointing to the former Lantern. They’re laying side-by-side at the top of Angri-La. Jade and Hendrik are getting thrashed by the new round of monsters summoned by the High Lama. Erik and Eleven, already having gone through solo rounds themselves, are resting their aching bodies, cloud-watching. “Looks like a horse’s head to me.”_

_Eleven looks the star over, not seeing what Erik could be referring to. Not until Erik leans in close, knocking their heads together. He grabs Eleven’s wrist, and points to the western edge of it._

_The touch feels like fire. It hadn’t always. Eleven had thought, once, that he had these feelings under control. He isn’t quite sure when that control had slipped._

_ < I think it looks more like a shark tail, > Eleven signs when Erik releases his arm. < See that part at the top? > _

_Erik looks back at the smoke cloud. “A unicorn, then,” he says stubbornly._

That was several weeks ago. It looked exactly the same now. As Eleven noticed this, he realized not much had really happened after the star fell. Sure, monsters were growing vicious, and the eight of them had been teleporting across the world dealing with the fallout, trying to help wherever they could. But it had been nothing like the other timeline. And lately, it had gotten quiet. It was as if Calasmos had made their point and was now waiting for the world to make the next move. 

Eleven straightened up, forgotten helmet still in hand, and moved to stand by the fire, where the extra light would get everyone’s attention. 

< Have you guys noticed - >

“That the grape jam stain in the sky is doing fuck-all?” Veronica interjects. 

Everyone nodded, except for Hendrik, who was too busy cringing at the frick-word coming out of a ten-year-old’s mouth. 

“Our noses ‘ave been to the grindstone for months now!” Rab said. “I think we can afford a wee vacation.” 

Sylvando perked up at this. “Oooh, let’s go to Gallopolis! I’ve been _dying_ to do another performance there. The poor dears desperately need it.” 

Erik scowled. “Isn’t this supposed to be a vacation? I don’t want to be under that thing,” he pointed to Calasmos, “while I’m trying to relax. We should go to Lonalulu. Do some fishing. Chill with the locals.” 

“You just want to get wasted again,” Veronica chided. “Lonalulu is _boring._ Let’s go to Gondolia. The food there is _divine._ ” 

Serena stepped in before Erik could protest, knowing he hadn’t the best experience there last time. “Why don’t we _all_ choose? Each of us picks a place, and we go there together for a day or two.” 

A pause as the group contemplated her proposal, and then murmurs of agreement. 

“So… where to first?” Erik asked. 

“I say leader gets first choice,” Jade suggested. 

All turned to look at Eleven. Luminary or not, he was surprised that they considered him as such. Not Rab, with his years of experience, nor Jade, with the level head on her shoulders, nor Erik, who had been taking the lead since it had only been the two of them. 

< Me? >

Nods all around. Eleven looked around the campfire to the waiting faces. His eyes fell on Erik. He could almost hear the snap of Veronica’s magic as she used a fire spell to light a room. Though reluctant to get someone’s hopes up, the Sword of Light had this habit of breaking curses he had never even _heard_ of. 

< I’d like to spend my vacation… at the library! >

* * *

Everyone save Erik tensed against the sudden burst of freezing air as the party materialized outside Sniflheim’s city gates. 

Eleven knew, even if he couldn’t tell from body language alone, that neither Veronica nor Erik were happy to be here. Veronica, because her tiny body couldn’t withstand the bitter cold quite like the rest of them. Erik because… well. 

Eleven remembered the moment, in a timeline that was now lost to him, when Erik launched himself across Gyldygga’s throne room with no regard for his own safety. He had been ready to throw his life away, to become a golden statue forever just to hug his little sister one last time. 

That moment, seared into Eleven’s mind’s eye forever, flashed before him clear as day now, as he saw that closed-off, _fearful_ look in Erik’s eyes. But there was something else to it, almost contemplating. Like he was actually considering saying something. But he stopped himself when he caught sight of the priest standing in front of the temple. 

Erik moved to the opposite side of the group, trying to be subtle about it. It might have fooled Eleven, had he not spoken to the priest about Erik’s childhood himself. 

“Why don’t we split up?” Erik suggested. “Get set up faster that way. Serena, you were saying your cloak got ripped when we were wandering around in that snowstorm, right?” 

“Oh, yes, now that you mention it,” Serena said. “Sylvando, how are we doing on food?” 

Sylvando checked his pack and winced. “Oopsie, I think we might have left the day’s food with Dave. Should we head back for it?” 

“I don’t see why we should,” Jade said. “We could just pick up rations here. The local cuisine is part of the experience, right? Serena, why don’t you go with Hendrik and I to the grocer? She seemed to take a shine to you.” 

“I don’t mean to question you, princess,” Hendrik said, “but what do you need me along for?” 

“Because it’s your turn to carry the food, and Sylv was just being stubborn carrying it himself.” 

Sylvando scoffed, looking embarrassed at being caught. 

“Would ye all mind too terribly if I went to check on Queen Frysabel?” Rab asked. “That is, if I’m not needed elsewhere.” 

“Making sure the ‘reformed’ witch isn’t giving her too much trouble?” Veronica said. 

“That isnae the words I would have used,” Rab dodged, not denying it. 

“Ronnie, why don’t you and I chat up the locals?” Sylvando suggested. “I don’t want to get surprised by any huge monsters showing up in the Snærfelt to roast our booties! We’re both good at getting people to talk, with cute faces like these!” 

“Or with the personality of a forest fire,” Erik mumbled. Veronica snapped her attention to him, but said nothing yet. He cringed. She may yet get her revenge later. “El, you know everyone’s sizes better than anyone. Why don’t you get new coats for everyone? Serena’s aside, everyone’s stuff is a bit worn, don’t you think?” 

< That’s a good idea. Come with me so I don’t have to try talking with my hands full? >

Erik looked like he was about to protest, but he kept his mouth shut and nodded. Eleven wondered if he had been trying to go hide somewhere. Maybe he had even been planning on visiting his old home, where the gold statue of his sister hopefully still stood. It would be terrible if Mordegon had managed to turn her into a monster already. Worse still if the vikings found her and decided to melt her down. 

< Should we meet at the church around noon? > Eleven asked. Erik tensed beside him, almost imperceptibly so, but Eleven still noticed. 

He felt guilty at the idea he may be forcing Erik’s hand, as the threat of the priest revealing what he knew may be what got Erik to talk. But before, or _after,_ he supposed, Eleven had unintentionally projected Erik’s whole tragic backstory, floor seats to a play of his life, to five other people. It had been _invasive_. Erik never got the chance to speak for himself, a magic tree root doing so for him, bringing his memories back, and also implanting them into the minds of others. 

His priority was to save Mia, but didn’t want to do so at the cost of Erik’s comfort. He hoped, this time, he wouldn’t have to. Not again. 

* * *

Eleven headed to the tailor’s shop, Erik dragging his feet behind him. Once everyone else was out of sight, Eleven turned his attention to Erik. 

< Are you okay? > He tried to keep it so the concern, and not his knowledge of Erik’s past, was the only thing showing on his face. 

He had never been that great an actor, but how could he even begin to tell his friends what he knew? What had happened in a world that no longer existed? Guilt ate at him, as it had been doing for months now, for withholding information. Here he was, trying to get Erik to talk to him, to trust him, and he couldn’t even afford the other the same honesty. 

“I’m great, why?” 

Eleven pursed his lips, crossed his arms. Even if he didn’t know _exactly_ what was eating Erik, that was entirely too obvious. Erik knew that Eleven knew something was up. 

“I- look, while we’re in the area…” Erik trailed off. 

< Yeah? > Eleven prompted. 

Something caught Erik’s eye. Eleven followed his gaze. A block away, by the fountain, was Veronica, shivering in her bright red dress. She chatted with someone Eleven didn’t recognize, too far away to hear. 

Erik laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “Never mind, we’ve got other stuff to worry about right now.” 

< Erik- > Eleven started to protest. 

“Just,” Erik started toward the tailor’s shop, “just give me a little time, yeah? I need to… figure something out.” 

Eleven nodded, swallowing down the lump in his throat. He reluctantly followed. 

Erik stayed mostly quiet as Eleven went about finding warm clothes for everyone. He got the brightest colors he could find. Something that would stand out against the snow, should they all end up separated in a blizzard again. 

Eleven tried to keep him talking, but it was hard between flipping through the fabrics and carrying armfuls of clothing to negotiate prices with the vendor. How would he even steer the conversation to Mia? He had no siblings of his own that weren’t already with him, so bringing up how he missed his family probably wouldn’t have the desired effect. 

It turned out he didn’t need to when a passerby noticed the weapons on their backs and felt the need to ramble about strange sounds coming from the northwest. He grew rightfully concerned - what could be up there that was making so much noise it could be heard all the way in Sniflheim? 

While assuring the woman that he and his team would check it out while they were in the area, Eleven could practically feel Erik’s panic. He shot him a concerned look, and Erik quickly schooled his expression into a much more neutral one. 

The sun was high in the sky, though not yet at its peak, when the two sat on the edge of the fountain. They dropped their bags of fur-lined armor padding and heavy overcoats with tired sighs, and sat in silence for a moment. 

“Why do we have to chase down monsters?” Erik said suddenly. “I mean, we’re on vacation.” 

This left Eleven scrambling. Erik had gone so long without questioning Eleven’s reckless habit of do-gooding, he didn’t expect the other to question it. 

< If monsters are showing up because of Calasmos, it’s our job to stop them before they can hurt anybody, > Eleven signed carefully. In truth, he sincerely doubted it was Mia who was making the noise. How loud could one gold statue be? 

Erik looked embarrassed. “I… yeah, you’re right. I’m sorry.” 

< Erik, please tell me what’s wrong, > Eleven pleaded. < You haven’t been yourself all day. I… I’m worried, > he signed truthfully. 

Erik looked at his hands. He opened his mouth. Closed it. Worry, fear, sadness, frustration, and more emotions Eleven couldn’t put a name to bloomed across Erik’s face in turn. 

Eleven put a comforting hand on Erik’s back. He tried to say, with his expression alone, _‘I’m here for you, no matter what.’_

“I… think it would be best if I just showed you.” 

* * *

By some miracle, Dave managed to get the Salty Stallion halfway across the world in a single morning, and was waiting at the docks on the off chance he would be needed. Sylvando would say his husband was a miracle worker. The rest would say he probably wasn’t human. 

When everyone gathered at noon, Eleven told them there was something they needed to check out to the west. The lot of them, bless them, took him at his word and didn’t ask questions. Eleven was humbled by their blind faith in him, and somewhat frightened. 

They all piled up in the ship, Dave taking them in the rowboat three at a time, until Sylvando and Hendrik, the tallest of the lot, were the only ones left. With the group boarded, they set sail for the viking hideout. 

The vikings didn’t seem to give a singular fuck that eight people suddenly marched through like they owned the place. The only person who seemed to even notice they were there was the chief. He raised his eyebrows at Erik, and Eleven quickly moved to walk beside him, blocking the chief's line of sight, not caring that it was a bit obvious what he was doing. He saw more than he wanted to of how the man treated Erik when he was only a child. 

On the other side of the cave system, Eleven felt a tug on his sleeve. He looked to see Erik gripping his cuff. 

Erik pointed to a door, well hidden by the mountain and the surrounding snow. “In there,” he whispered. “I’d… rather not anyone else see, if that’s okay.” 

Eleven nodded, and cleared his throat. Erik quickly dropped Eleven’s sleeve as their group started turning toward the two of them. 

< Erik and I are going ahead to see if there’s an easier way past the mountain. Will you guys scout through these woods - > he pointed to the west, < and along the river if you can find a safe way down? >

There were nods and words of affirmation all around. It was as good a plan as any. 

< Please don’t lose each other, > Eleven signed before they all parted ways. No matter how long it had been since the blizzard, Eleven’s fear of losing his friends in the snow wouldn’t end. He had a year more time, but that year made that fear all the worse. Losing those people for months rather than minutes would do that to a person. 

Eleven moved forward. He looked to his side to notice a distinct lack of blue and green. His gaze fell further back, and saw Erik dragging his feet. 

Eleven stood and waited for Erik to catch up. When he did, Eleven held out his hand. Erik stared at it for a moment, hesitant, then took it. The next step they took, they took together. 

As they walked, Erik began to talk about his sister. How she had been such a brat, how he cared for her so much. How he wanted to do something amazing for her birthday, to give her even a fraction of the luxury she would likely never know. How the necklace was cursed, how the power slowly corrupted her mind. 

How he blamed himself, starting from the moment a girl no more than thirteen turned herself to gold, to now, five years later. 

How the Seer had told him to go after the orb, that he would meet the Luminary, and find his forgiveness through him.

Erik leaned on the hidden door, catching his shaking breath. Eleven waited patiently, would wait all day and night if he needed to. And then Erik unlocked it, with the key he always kept close, hidden away in a pocket under his tunic. 

* * *

Eleven felt so relieved he might be sick when the Sword of Light began glowing before he even reached for its power. He held it in both hands, raising it skyward. He didn’t close his eyes, even as the bright light blinded him, and felt rather than saw the mark on his left hand start to glow. It felt like the static shock in the winter, when he touched one of the metal cooking pans after tossing and turning in the woolen blankets all night, except it didn’t hurt. 

He blinked his eyes, clearing his spotty vision, to see the girl, with blue hair rather than gold, collapsing into Erik’s arms. For a moment, Erik could do nothing but breathe. He shook. 

He apologized to her, kept apologizing, fighting tears that wouldn’t quite fall. She laughed it off, forgave him easily, and that forgiveness, Eleven could tell, hit Erik harder than a blow from any monster ever would. 

Erik looked back at Eleven, flashing a huge, shaky grin. “Forgiveness,” he mouthed. The last part of the prophecy. A single tear fell. 

Eleven dropped his sword where he stood and crossed the remaining distance between himself and his best friend. He knelt beside Erik, trying to give Mia her space still, and gripped his shoulder. Erik leaned into it, not quite resting his cheek on the hand. 

“Mia, meet the man who saved you. Who saved both of us.” 

“Gay,” Mia muttered, then promptly lost conciousness. 

Erik sputtered, though quickly became more concerned with Mia’s passed-out state than his own embarrassment. Eleven looked away, hiding his flushed cheeks. He didn’t remove his hand from Erik’s shoulder. 

* * *

Eleven carried Mia out of the shelter, so carefully, as if she were made of glass. Erik had said she was more precious to him than any treasure, after all. And as Erik was that to Eleven, he’d rather get himself knocked unconscious than let her get a bruised head from bumping the door frame. 

Erik ran ahead, shouting for their friends to come meet them. They all came running, some much faster than others, all gasping in turn upon seeing the unconscious girl in Eleven’s arms.

Serena arrived with a fortunate amount of urgency, always having a knack for sensing someone needing her help. 

“She’s weak,” Serena said, her healing magic flowing into Mia, “but more than anything, she just needs rest.” 

“Let’s get her back to the ship,” Sylvando suggested, lacking some of his usual flair. “It would be silly to leave her with these brutes. We have plenty of beds. I used to transport the-” he trailed off, frowning. “The circus group I worked with. What deja vu…” he mused. 

Erik took Mia from there. Eleven once again blocked the curious gazes of the vikings, now interested in why there were nine when there had been eight, though not so much the fact that they were hauling an unconscious young woman. 

Erik hadn’t told him about how he had suffered at their hands. Didn’t have a reason to. So Eleven kept his expression no more than mildly defensive. How he wanted to glare openly, to rest his hands on his swords, to visually dare anyone to come close. 

But revenge wasn’t the answer, no matter how much he wanted to hurt them back. Erik probably wouldn’t appreciate him going around fighting his fights for him, anyhow. 

Dave took Mia from Erik’s arms, better at balancing on the shaky gangplank than any of the rest, despite his size. 

Dave only just made it onto the ship when a thunderous roar shook the caves. 

The gangplank rattled, but didn’t fall. Several vikings, as well as half the team, including Eleven, were startled right off their feet. 

“What the fuck was that?!” Veronica shouted. 

_The celestial serpent,_ Eleven realized, blood turning to ice. 

* * *

It was stronger than it had been when Eleven last faced it, back when Mordegon freed it from its icy prison. So much stronger. 

But so was he. So were they all, though they might not understand why. 

They drove it into a corner, trapping it against the mountain at the mouth of the cave where the vikings hid. 

They had truly done a number on it, several patches of scales missing. Acidic blood poured from its wounds, and those who got in close had to take extra care not to get scalded. 

It charged forward, a desperate attack. Eleven rolled easily out of the way, preparing for a counterattack, expecting this move. 

Veronica, however, did not. 

It slammed its full weight into her, and her tiny body crumpled. She didn’t get back up. 

Eleven halted his attack, and raced to her side. Her eyes were glazed over. She looked _dead._

Eleven froze. He couldn’t bury her again, not again, _not again._

He whirled on the dragon and called on the strongest ability at his disposal, summoning a mountainous sword out of thin air. It came down on the creature, pinning it. Acid spurted like rain from the dragon’s back, and fortunately nobody was in its range. 

It wasn’t an ability he was supposed to have, but at that moment he was too focused on protecting Veronica to remember or care. 

Hendrik quickly moved between the two and the dragon, shield raised. The celestial serpent shot a breath of fire, but he somehow managed to block the worst of it. He still got singed in the process. One of his boots lit on fire, but he held his ground with barely a wince. 

Serena and Rab made it to Veronica shortly after. Neither took the time to be terrified, immediately pumping their healing magic into saving her. 

She came off the ground as if weightless, bones snapping back into place, lungs refilling, heart restarting, and landed gently back on her feet. She blasted the dragon’s eye with a fireball, blinding it, before she even fully came back to her senses. 

“What the fuck,” she mumbled, watching the golden blade vaporize into thin air. “Whatever, let’s go!” 

The eight of them rushed in as one. 

* * *

Eleven knew that Rab would surely grill him on his use of Erdwin’s ability later. But for now, they all stumbled back to the ship to rest. Their magical energy was depleted, leaving them weary and sore in ways someone without those abilities couldn’t imagine. It was surprisingly late by the time they got there. They all agreed they could visit the Royal Library the next day. 

There was a knock on the door of Eleven and Erik’s shared room. 

It wasn’t Erik. He never knocked. He didn’t give a shit if Eleven was changing, and Eleven knew better than to be caught with his hand down his pants. 

The others had given them grief over it, but both realized fairly early on that neither could sleep alone easily. Not after months of being on the run, sleeping back-to-back at campsites, never knowing when their pursuers might attack them in the night. 

Eleven’s growing crush on the other had, surprisingly, not made the arrangement any more awkward. He started feeling this way earlier than he cared to admit, and those feelings were simply another part of how he saw their friendship. He never felt it had to change anything. He certainly didn’t want to burden Erik with these things.

Eleven crossed the room to open the door. Mia was standing outside, getting ready to knock again. She looked oddly shy. 

“Dave said you’d be in here,” she said. “Can I come in?” 

He nodded, a little stunned, and stepped aside. _Who house-trained this girl in this timeline? She’s as polite as_ Serena. 

She went and sat down on the corner of the bed. Then, with her shoes still on, she pulled her feet up under her legs. 

_That’s a relief._

He didn’t protest. She was on Erik’s side, anyway, and he had kicked up his dirty boots onto the table right next to where Eleven was eating more times than he could count. 

< Did you need something? > Eleven signed, amused. 

“I… wanted to say thank you. For looking after my idiot brother,” she said, not quite meeting his eye. “And for saving me.” 

Eleven shifted awkwardly in place. It wasn’t as though he was never thanked, but he never quite knew what to say when it happened. 

Mia continued on, filling the silence when he didn’t respond. “Also,” she had a more accusatory tone, “I don’t know what you did, but he’s a big sap now.” 

< He’s always been a sap. > Erik had managed to be stern with Eleven for all of ten seconds, and hadn’t stopped being nice to him since the first time they returned to Cobblestone. 

“Yeah, but he was never this open about it! It’s _weird,_ ” Mia huffed, picking at her boot. “Just… take care of him, okay? Keep him safe. And,” she gave him a glare, defensive, not angry, “if he asks, we never had this talk.” 

Eleven nodded. It wasn’t as if there was a way to recap this in a way that it didn’t sound like a sister giving the shovel talk to her brother’s new boyfriend, anyway. 

“‘Kay,” she said, jumping up. “Good talk. ‘Night.” 

< Good night, > he signed, but her back was already turned. 


	2. The Royal Library

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I hate the cold, I hate the cold, _I hate the cold!_ ” Veronica shouted as the doors to the library shut with a thud. The rest eyed her warily, worrying a repeat of the Incident. She certainly wasn’t the type to set herself on fire to keep others warm. To keep _herself_ warm, however…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Real quick before we get into it: the new tags don't reflect the chapter! I just finally got around to putting in the tags I meant to have.

“I hate the cold, I hate the cold,  _ I hate the cold! _ ” Veronica shouted as the doors to the library shut with a thud. The rest eyed her warily, worrying a repeat of the Incident. She certainly wasn’t the type to set herself on fire to keep others warm. To keep  _ herself _ warm, however… 

She belatedly realized the outburst got the attention of pretty much every hostile creature in the entire building. 

The whirr of machines and the crunch of stone grew louder and louder from every conceivable direction. The metal monsters began scaling the columns down to reach them, moving vertically with as much ease as they crossed solid ground. 

“Oh, motherfu-” Veronica was stopped short by Hendrik’s hand covering her mouth. 

Hendrik was saved from a frying by a stone statue coming down on the both of them. 

He threw her to one side like a ragdoll while rolling to the other. He came up in a smooth movement, grabbing his shield before reaching for his axe. 

Veronica was still considering how he would “accidentally” meet his untimely end as Jade appeared beside her, catching a metal monster’s sword on her spear with a loud clash. 

Revenge would have to wait. 

Serena threw a barrier up as a statue punched at her. It softened the blow, but didn’t block it, and she stumbled as she got hit. 

Veronica shot the damned thing full of ice, and it splintered into a million pieces. 

She heard the whirr of a machine behind her, and ducked as a boomerang sailed past her head. It hit the machine with a clang, knocking it off balance. Though not doing much damage, it stopped the downward slash that would have cut Veronica in two. 

“You  _ idiot, _ ” she shrieked at Erik, not taking her eyes off her target as she prepared another spell. “You nearly hit me!” 

“You’re welcome,” he scoffed, dodging around a statue’s feet. 

“Focus up, ladies!” came Sylvando’s voice. A machine went flying through the air in a burst of petals, before a whip whirled around it, bringing it crashing to the ground. 

It tried to get back up on its four feet, and a horrible-feeling power burst out of it, ripping it apart from the inside out. Rab was chanting nearby, choosing to stand still at the edge of the fight rather than jumping into the thick of it. 

Veronica heard Eleven shout, one of the few times he used his voice. He faced off against a statue, both swords wreathed in flame. He slashed at it wildly, seeming to be more focused on getting its attention than killing it. 

Then Erik flanked it, running his dagger in a deep slash across its back. It collapsed into dust. 

* * *

Everyone sat in a loose circle, waiting their turns for healing. Their clothes were damaged, though thankfully not irreparable, according to Eleven. All were sporting scrapes, bruises, cuts, and burns - most from the machines’ lasers, Hendrik from friendly fire which Veronica swore up and down was an accident. 

Erik knew Eleven was out of magical energy. One of the statues had come alive behind him, startling him, and he ended up summoning that weird fifty-foot blade of his to cleave it in half. Rab had seemed frustrated at that, hissing about a quad-something and how they were indoors. Miraculously, nothing but the statue had been harmed. 

Apparently, this drained him quite a lot, as he didn’t use any spells after that. 

Eleven’s lacking magic pool didn’t stop him from wanting to help - of course it didn’t. Eleven was extremely dedicated to his role as the person who could  _ literally fill every role, _ which included being a surprisingly good healer when the situation called for it. 

And that’s how Erik found himself shirtless, with someone so attractive it made him  _ angry _ sometimes, up close and personal with his chest. 

One of the machines had gotten him right across the stomach with its sword. Were it not so painful, were he not bleeding out, he probably wouldn’t be able to handle Eleven methodically rubbing the salve into his skin. 

The pain was probably for the best. The last thing Eleven needed was Erik squirming around like a dog in heat while he was trying to  _ heal _ him. 

Erik was going to need to go outside and throw himself into a snowbank after this. 

Eleven finally finished up. He gave Erik a smile so sweet he got cavities looking at him, wiping the gunk off his hands onto his pants. 

< Anything else? > he signed. He glanced Erik over, apparently knowing that he would sooner walk around on a broken leg than bring it up. 

“Just bruises,” Erik said, truthful for once. It wasn’t like Eleven would bother when he had other people to heal. 

Eleven frowned, the slightest pinch of the brows and downturn of the lips. Erik turned his hands over. A big bruise on the left, when he threw a boomerang hard to save Veronica from getting shish kebabed. Several smaller ones on the right, the hand still not used to the force of catching the second throw. 

Eleven pulled another object out of his bag and set it on the stone floor with a click. A balm, less for saving lives and more for kissing boo-boos, but still with minor magical properties. 

Erik’s heart clenched. “You don’t have to worry about me,” he mumbled. 

< And still… > Eleven smiled. 

Erik didn’t have a moment to realize just how fucked he was before a hand was holding his. It was rough and calloused from holding a sword near daily, but it was warm. Eleven’s touch was gentle, more like he was handling a baby bird than the hand of a criminal. 

Erik ducked his head, blushing like a virgin. With nowhere to hide, he was lucky that Eleven was more focused on the task at hand than his face. 

The ointment tingled, not itching like the stronger salves. His palms cooled as the bruises rapidly faded. 

Not as cold as his hands felt, when Eleven eventually released them. 

* * *

With the library free of monsters, it was safe for everyone to explore as they wished. 

Eleven’s main reason for choosing this region was to save Mia. But added to that, he had a passion for reading and an unending hunger for learning new things. 

Immediately setting off up and down the floors, he flipped through every genre from children’s literature to healing magic, smithing to astronomy. He marked the places he took books from with long strips of paper, carefully labeled, so he could return them properly later. Grandpa Chalky would probably return from the dead to smack him if he didn't. 

The library was inconveniently designed, even more so with walls of rubble and fallen-out floors blocking alternate paths that would have otherwise been available. There was really only one way to “solve” the route now. 

He loved it here. 

Despite only having been twice before, he had the library memorized like the back of his hand. He knew where all the switches were, exactly what they would do, and how to use them to get to the sections where he wanted to go. 

Having a photographic memory really was a convenient thing. 

He hit a switch, raising the catwalk into a ramp up to the third level. As it moved, he was startled to hear a familiar shout. He quickly ran around the central pillar to check on Erik, to help him if he was hurt, and to apologize if he wasn’t. But when he made his way around, he couldn’t find him. 

Eleven frowned, searching what he could see of the upper floor, in case Erik had been lifted up there with the ramp. He leaned to the side, trying to see the ground floor, in case the other had fallen. 

As he was looking, he didn’t notice the statue come to life at his back and gear up to squish him. 

All he noticed was the crack of ice splitting stone, and Veronica cussing him out for not paying attention to his surroundings. 

* * *

Serena made her way to the romance section, off to find the most depressing book of the lot and commit it to memory. Perhaps she could find a sequel to that book from her childhood, a sequel where the mermaid isn’t dead after all and seeks her love back on land. 

And then she would find he was an old man who had a fulfilling life without her, and was actually quite unhappy to see her. Serena smiled blissfully to herself, thinking fondly of the story she wrote when she was ten. Her parents gushed about how she might become an author one day. The young ladies she went to school with giggled about Serena’s “fanfiction,” but gushed all the same. 

She flipped idly through the books, before pulling one that stood out to her. On the cover was a dainty maiden, reaching tearfully toward a hardened warrior, walking away from her sobbing lover with a grim expression. 

Serena pulled out a cushion from Yggdrasil-knows-where and sat down, adjusting her skirt to keep out the cool air. Seriously, she didn’t know where she got it. Ever since she started traveling with this group, she could think  _ ‘I want to have a comfortable place to sit’ _ and boom. Cushion. 

She gently traced the book’s binding. It was in surprisingly good condition, especially for how long it must have sat in the dust of the abandoned library. She opened it with the utmost care. She treated her own books well, and a borrowed one certainly shouldn’t be any different. 

A few minutes in, tears were already pouring down her cheeks.  _ This is a good book, indeed,  _ she thought, grief positively  _ tearing  _ at her heartstrings. She rested it, open, on her lap to take a breath and clear her vision. 

The moment, with the words no longer echoing through her mind, felt like suddenly being thrust into silence. With that, the tapping of delicate footsteps moving at a hard sprint sounded quite loud to her ears. 

She looked up just in time to see Erik blaze past her little alcove, searching for something, quite panicked. She heard the stumble of shoes coming to a sudden halt, and Erik walked back into view. 

“Oh. Serena.” He sounded disappointed, almost. “Have you seen- uh, are you okay?” 

Serena opens her mouth to gush about the wonderful time she’s having. 

Then a glint from above catches her eye. 

A metal monster is dropping, she has to warn- 

With an ear-splitting explosion, shards of steel and glass went flying all directions from where the creature once had been. Erik narrowly bounced out of the way of a large chunk of debris. 

A furious Veronica stood several feet away. She opened her mouth, surely to give the both of them quite a colorful earful. 

* * *

Hendrik moved through the library, relying on the impressive perceptive abilities gained through decades of training. He was seeking ancient battle techniques lost to time, in an effort of becoming a better knight. 

That’s why he was in the erotica section - one never found any hidden gems in the place one expected it, after all. 

At least that’s what he would say if anyone happened upon him. 

He’s a thirty-seven year old virgin. Cut him some slack. 

He gasped as he came upon a name he recognized. This was the artist behind the Ogler’s Digest, before she became  _ the _ Artist Behind the Ogler’s Digest. The thin book was in mint condition; it was obvious that the previous owner cared a lot to keep it that way. 

Back in Heliodor, he couldn’t find a copy of the early classics that was…  _ unstained, _ and finding a clean copy, even of the more recent (less refined, in his opinion) issues was a miracle from the goddess herself. He couldn’t very well get his own subscription sent to the  _ castle, _ after all; it would spread through his knights before the sun set even once, and then they would  _ never _ respect him. 

So wrapped up in his incredible discovery was he, that he didn’t notice someone approaching behind him until it was too late. He heard a gasp from someone looking over his shoulder (or, rather, around him). 

Hendrik jumped, a thousand poorly thought out excuses on the tip of his tongue as he turned to see who had discovered him in such a…  _ compromising _ state. 

A surge of relief hit him when he realized it was just Rab. A fellow fan of the finer arts, someone who could appreciate his… ahem,  _ appreciation, _ without judgement. 

Back at the Field of Discipline, Grand Master Pang had been furious when she saw Rab’s book. The rest seemed resigned. He thought he might have heard a snicker from Veronica. The fact that such a respectable man had such interests brought Hendrik no small amount of solace in his own actions. 

All the relief fled him, replaced by fear, when Rab began loudly expressing his excitement. The old fool was completely ignorant to the idea of subtlety! If he kept this up, someone would surely notice the commotion- 

Hendrik felt a furiously dangerous presence looming behind him. He turned slowly, fearing for his life. 

_ Jade. _

To her credit, his reaction had been somewhat… paranoid. She didn’t seem angry, just disappointed. Still, it was ill fitting of someone of his station to let his charge see him like this. She was still the princess, after all. 

Who was he kidding? Were she not a princess, he would still strive for her good opinion of him. 

She opened her mouth to give the pair a verbal lashing that would sound calm and serene, and make both of them want to crawl into a snake pit and die. The lecture never came. 

The Luminary, the savior of Erdrea, the sweet, blessed, innocent boy who wouldn’t recognize a porn magazine if it fell on his face open, bumbled in with a large stack of books. He quickly set them to the side, freeing his hands to speak. 

< Rab! Hendrik! I’ve been looking for you! I found some books you might be interested in. >

Excited, or as excited as one so unsettlingly inexpressive could look (truly, it was hard to find where his punctuation lay half the time), he grabbed four books off the top of the pile. He handed three to Rab, and one to Hendrik, both taking the offered objects in more an instinctive manner. 

After the total silence stretched, his- joyful? demeanor diminished somewhat. 

< Is everyone okay? >

* * *

Erik officially hated this place. 

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. He’d liked it well enough last time. But last time, he had enough brainpower to stick to Eleven’s side and  _ stay there, _ and thus didn’t end up hopelessly lost like he was now. No matter how messy his emotions were getting, he should have known better than to try and avoid him. 

This was the fifth time hitting a switch nearly got him stuck in a wall. 

He thought about yelling for him, but it wasn’t as if Eleven could yell  _ back, _ not to mention the absolute shit the team would give him for it. 

He yelped as the catwalk he was about to step on  _ moved out of the way _ and he went tumbling face-first into open air. 

_ What a way to go, _ he thought to himself as the ground floor sped toward him. 

He was saved from becoming a splat on the ground, snatched out of the air with a grace and disregard for gravity that could really only be one person. 

“Thanks, Sylv,” he grumbled, eyes downcast. 

“No problem, darling! But how did our flight-footed little thief manage to fall off a fenced balcony, huh?” 

“The floor mo- uhhh,” Erik cut himself short when he saw a well-dressed dragon dancing, freakishly graceful for its size and shape, surrounded by spinning platypunks. “What’s… going on?” 

Sylvando turned to look at the scene, and gasped. 

“Bill! Bill, honey, you are off step! Left, right, left, right, and a slide! You’re doing amazing!” 

All of the platypunks looked identical to Erik, but one of them adjusted its steps according to the instructions. And… yeah, it did actually look a little more coordinated after. 

Erik scrubbed his eyes. 

Sylvando clasped his hands, cooing at the improvement. “Sorry, Erik, you were saying?” 

After nearly an hour of backtracking and watching where he stepped, Erik made it to the top floor. He figured that if he stood on the top of the central pillar, he would have a better chance of figuring out where everything was. 

Here, he found Jade. She sat on the ring, where the less sturdy parts of the floor had fallen out. Her arms rested on her knees, her head on her arms. She seemed upset. 

For a moment, Erik thought about turning around and heading back the way he came. He still didn’t know her all that well, despite how long they’ve been traveling together now, and things like  _ feelings _ weren’t his strong suit to begin with. Clearly. 

But damn it, she looked like she needed someone to talk to. 

Erik walked over and sat on the edge near her, his legs dangling over. 

“Hey.” She looked up, didn’t say a word. “This place is like a maze, huh?” 

She shrugged. 

“One of the floors moved out from under me earlier,” he continued, rambling to fill the silence. That, at least, he was good at. “I almost died.” 

She huffed, a ghost of a laugh. 

“So,” he ventured, “you- you okay? I mean, you don’t have to talk to me, if you don’t want to. You just look like you need to talk to someone. I can, uh, get someone else if you’d like? Just say the word.” 

She shrugged again. Opened her mouth, then closed it. 

“I can get Rab… El? Uh…”  _ Who is she close to, even? _ “Hendrik?” 

Her expression didn’t change much, but it did grow a bit chillier. After so long of paying careful attention to minute changes in expression, he picked up on that quickly. 

“Okay. What did he do this time?” 

Jade sighed. “You know about Rab’s little… obsession, right?” she started,  _ finally _ freeing Erik from the job of doing all the talking. 

He had a violent flashback to the old guy trying to give him The Talk using his “literature” as a visual guide. “Never wanted to think about it again, but yes, continue.” 

“I don't know if it’s right for me to say this, but I always- I hated it. It felt creepy to me.” Jade fiddled with the laces on her boot. “But I got used to it, in time. He’s an old man who will likely never form a bond like he had with his late wife.” She sighed, and adjusted so her legs were crossed and hanging over the ledge. “But Hendrik, he seemed so…  _ proper _ and  _ knightly. _ I don’t know why I expected he wouldn’t have those…  _ interests, _ but for some reason, it upsets me that he does.” 

Erik swallowed his surprise. He hadn’t realized Hendrik would have liked that kind of thing, didn’t know much at all about the man, other than his unyielding determination to catch a petty thief and a guy who didn’t do anything wrong in his life ever. But Jade needed a friend, not some idiot whose head would pop at the thought of a grown man looking at pictures of undressed women. 

“I don’t mean to be…  _ that guy, _ but have you tried talking to him?” Erik asked. “I mean, I’m not sure how much it would help - guys I knew who were into that kinda thing were always gross about women being bothered by it, but,” he set his hand on the uneven floor and leaned across the chasm toward her, “he listens to you. You’re the princess, after all. I can’t say I know jack about him, but I think he’d care that you care. If anything, he’d at least keep it on the down-low in the future.” 

Jade pinched her glove absentmindedly. “It’s not just that, though. I know it’s none of my concern, and I cannot figure out why it bothers me so much. He has every right to look at  _ pictures. _ And I know, from Rab’s rambling, that the artist treats her models well.” 

“Jade, do you think…” He trailed off, knowing it was a longshot at best. 

“Do I think?” 

He braced himself. It was too late to back out of it, but he might get punched. “Do you think you might be jealous?” 

Erik walked along the catwalk, rubbing his bruised arm. He was glad he managed to keep Jade from falling, but  _ damn, _ that woman had a grip that could bend steel. 

He opened the door to the central office. “So this is where you’ve been,” he murmured. 

Despite the perfectly good desk, Eleven was curled up on the floor, asleep against the bookshelf close to the fireplace. A blanket was wrapped loosely around his shoulders, and a book laid open on his lap. There was a pile of varied books sitting next to him, of every conceivable fiction and non-fiction subject Erik could think Eleven might possibly be interested in. 

A half empty cup of hot (though probably not anymore) cocoa sat on top of the book tower. Erik wasn’t sure where he even got it. 

A single strand of perfect, shiny hair hung loosely in Eleven’s face. A brief moment of insanity had Erik’s fingers itching to brush it away for him. He quickly pushed that down. 

They were close. Holding hands when one knew the other was hurting close. Erik pretending he didn’t notice Eleven unconsciously nuzzling into him for warmth on cold nights close. Sharing a waterskin when Sylvando would inevitably make a crack about an indirect kiss close. 

He didn’t think they were caressing-your-friend’s-face-while-he-sleeps close. 

These moments were ever increasing in frequency. 

_ The first time they went to Hotto. They sat in the sauna, alone together, both stinking horribly. A drop of sweat trailed down Eleven’s neck. It should have been gross. Erik wanted to lick it off.  _

_ The ropes around his chest in Gondolia, so tight they cracked a rib, suddenly loosened. He collapsed, sucking in a deep, pained breath, into warm arms. The arms shook, and he looked up to see Eleven’s lower lip trembling. He wanted to kiss those fears away. To hold him close, whispering that he was okay until Eleven believed him. To destroy Jasper, not for kidnapping him, but for scaring his friend so badly.  _

Erik needed to wake Eleven before he did something stupid. 

“El, hey, El, wake up,” he said softly. He gave Eleven’s shoulder a shake. The guy could sleep through the apocalypse under the right circumstances. 

“Mmf.” One sleepy blue-gray eye cracked open. “Erihh?” he whispered. 

Erik nearly choked. “Y-yeah,” he forced out. 

As cheesy as it sounds, Erik’s heart skipped a beat. He knew, from what Eleven told him before, that he was able to whisper or even speak quietly to people he trusted completely, as long as they were one-on-one. 

He also knew that the only person who fit in that category was Eleven’s mother. Not even Gemma had heard Eleven’s voice since the day Chalky died. 

Eleven yawned, stretching his arms over his head. Erik quickly snatched away the mug so it wouldn’t get knocked over and spill all over the books. 

< What time is it? > Eleven signed sleepily, the motion in his face to turn the phrase to a question causing his face to scrunch up. Normally only his eyebrows moved, but when he was this tired, his nose wrinkled as well. 

“It’s-” Erik’s voice cracked. He cleared his throat and looked out the open door, trying to gauge the sun’s position through the frosted glass. “I’m not sure. Veronica hasn’t started yelling, so I imagine it’s not time to leave just yet.” 

Eleven gave a soft little laugh. 

_ If he doesn’t stop being cute soon, I’m going to die, _ Erik thought. How he wasn’t immune to the gorgeous Luminary’s charms by this point was beyond him. They had been traveling together for nearly a year and a half now, damnit. 

Eleven’s eyes widened, and for one panicked moment Erik wondered if he said any of that out loud. Before he could get his thoughts in order, Eleven reached over for the book pile. He fumbled through the titles, and carefully pulled out a thick leather tome. 

Eleven handed it to Erik. Its surface was rough, pages yellowed. It felt like it had been left out in the rain more than once. 

< The people who made that astronomy book you read last time. This is the field journal they worked on when they studied off the highest peak in the world. >

Erik’s jaw dropped. How had Eleven remembered? 

“Holy shit. Thank you.” 

Eleven moved his pile of books, and patted the now-empty space next to him. Erik sat down, close enough that their shoulders brushed. Probably too close, but it was already too late to scoot away and call attention to it. 

He guessed it was okay, because the moment he was settled, Eleven lifted one side of his blanket and dropped it around Erik’s shoulders. Erik pretended to be very interested in the bookshelf behind him as he willed the blush down. 

When he finally looked back, Eleven was already wrapped up in his book. Erik decided to follow his example. 

* * *

“I’m sure they’re somewhere, the laddies arenae the type to just up an’ run off,” Rab said to the fretting team. 

“At least Eleven isn’t,” Veronica grumbled. 

“I don’t understand what you mean, Veronica,” Serena said. “Erik has been with him since the beginning, even before we were traveling with them.” 

“Maybe they left together,” Hendrik mused, thinking back to how slippery the two had been when he was first having to deal with them. “It would not be the first time I saw them- oh.” 

The two were curled up by the fire together. Erik’s head rest on Eleven’s shoulder. Eleven’s lay in a nest of spikey blue hair. A weather-worn journal laid open, face down in front of Erik, as if it tumbled off his lap when he passed out. A closed book sat neatly by Eleven’s opposite side. 

“Aww,” cooed Serena and Sylvando, in a harmony so perfect it was like they practiced it. 

“And he was making fun of m-” Jade trailed off. “Should we wake them?” 

“ _ Obviously, _ ” Veronica said. “If we don’t get going soon, it’ll be dark before we get to town, and  _ I’m _ not spending the night in the cold library!” 

Everyone flinched at her volume. 

Erik jolted awake, yanking away from Eleven, and went for his knife. His hair sprung back up like it was never flattened, like gravity disagreed with it. 

Eleven, still sleeping soundly, tumbled into Erik’s chest. Erik quickly caught him with his right arm, still holding the knife protectively ahead of both of them in the left. 

He relaxed when he saw it was just the team, a blush spreading across his face as he sheathed his knife and maneuvered Eleven into a more comfortable position. 

“El, wake up,” he murmured, ignoring everyone’s eyes boring holes into his head. There was a general feeling of discomfort in the room, as if they were witnessing something they weren't supposed to see. “Time to go.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna start off by saying I'm probably NOT gonna make this a once per week update schedule, even if I certainly do aim for it. I have a lot done already, but the later chapters are getting exponentially more difficult for me to finish as the plot strays from "silly excuses for them to blush at each other" and goes into "wow this is actually a serious relationship that needs to be written correctly." I hope you all can continue to be patient! 
> 
> I should say that I have enough self-awareness to realize I do romanticize Eleven's selective mutism far more than I should, but I can, at least, say that outside of this chapter and one other down the line, it's not really mentioned. I took some pages out of Breath of the Wild's book, if that wasn't already obvious.


	3. Octagonia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group walked into Octaginia, chattering about MMA teams and who they all wanted to partner up with. It appeared Veronica was still miffed about her apparent age not allowing her to compete, but she appeared to find some calm in the fact that Serena would sit out with her. Despite the chilling lack of sunshine, Jade really was fond of this place. It’s why she chose it, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning: someone gets drunk in this chapter. It isn't an aggressive drunk or anything like that, but I figured I should give a warning.

The group walked into Octaginia, chattering about MMA teams and who they all wanted to partner up with. It appeared Veronica was still miffed about her apparent age not allowing her to compete, but she appeared to find some calm in the fact that Serena would sit out with her. Despite the chilling lack of sunshine, Jade really was fond of this place. It’s why she chose it, after all. 

Erik was oddly quiet, prompting Veronica to snark about him going out in the first round. Nobody blamed him for it, of course. Against a horde of monsters, Erik excelled. One-on-one, Jade had no match. Even still, their abilities weren’t so hilariously unequal as the tournament made them appear. If he had even a semi competent partner, he wouldn’t have been so easily trounced. 

The city, to her shock, had become some kind of casino state. It wasn’t a disappointment - she could wipe the floor with overconfident men just as well at a poker table as the arena. The surprise on Eleven’s face was a sight for sore eyes. She was beginning to feel a little freaked out by his reactions. Truly weird situations brought nothing but serene happiness or grudging acceptance to his face, lately. 

But they had little time to gamble, or even reserve rooms, before trouble was inevitably thrown their way. The ex MMA fighters were acting strange, and Vince had followed them down into the caves. And off they went, to save people, because that’s what heroes do. 

Erik still seemed tense on the way through the cave. Even more so, perhaps, so much that it began to worry Jade. Had she and Rab truly offended him that badly? He didn’t seem the type to hold grudges, had shrugged off Veronica’s joking before. 

Then Vince called Eleven his “partner,” and Erik’s expression went from stormy to thunderous. He quickly schooled it back into something neutral before Vince noticed, but Jade, already concerned, certainly saw. 

She remembered the downright instinctive protectiveness of her brother Erik had shown back at the library. How close the two seemed to be. She had always assumed their relationship had been a close platonic one - had been joking when she noted the romantic implications of their positions - but now she realized she may have been foolish for thinking that. 

She didn’t yet have time to confirm it, though. She had a fifty foot spider chomping at her ass. 

* * *

“So… you, uh, gonna stay at Vince’s again tonight?” 

< Huh? > Eleven asked. Why would he do that? Vince was in no danger this time. 

“I mean, you don’t have to tell me,” Erik said. His voice was unusually cold, attempting a casual tone that he couldn’t quite hit. “It’s none of my business who you sleep with-” 

< What!? > Eleven repeated, the movement more violent. He sheepishly moved closer to the wall, apologizing to the passerby he nearly shoved. 

“Oh, one-night stand. Got it. Didn’t think you were the type. Don’t worry, I won’t bring it up again.” He still sounded chilly, but it was noticeably lighter this time. 

Eleven blinked, gears turning in his head. Did Erik really think- 

< What are you- > He cut himself short when Jade and Sylvando approached. 

“El, Erik,” Jade said, “we’re headed up to the roulette tables. Will you join us?” 

Eleven cringed. He was never a big gambler to begin with, with his shit luck and all. But what happened to Jade in the other timeline gave him a true aversion to it. Not to mention his mood had tanked when he found out his best friend thought he boinked Vince. The dude  _ ate _ people. 

“Hell yeah,” Erik said, smirking at Jade. “I still need to get back at you for Puerto Valor. You coming?” he asked Eleven, who was wondering what the hell happened in Puerto Valor. 

< Not really my cup of tea. I’ll see you guys later? >

Erik’s face was carefully blank, in a way Eleven knew he was forcing it. 

“Oh, if you’re sure.” Jade ruffled his hair and made to leave. 

In honesty, he wasn’t anymore. That face Erik was making made Eleven consider suffering through it for his sake. What he  _ wanted _ was to talk to him, preferably alone, and clear the air. But he didn’t want to ruin anyone’s trip. 

He watched helplessly as Erik walked away, not once looking back. 

* * *

Erik barely had his ass in the seat before Sylvando struck. 

“So… is our dear little Eleven off with his ‘friend?’” 

Jade sat down on the other side of Erik and passed Sylvando a drink over his shoulder. 

“Friend? What are you talking about?” 

Oh, fuck Erik’s luck honestly. He had hoped he could go at least ten seconds without thinking about his… about Eleven going to the bone zone with a literal murderer. 

He chewed his lip so hard he nearly broke the skin. It was none of his business.  _ None. _ He wouldn’t want Eleven to be upset about Erik’s own past, should it  _ ever _ become slightly relevant. Which it wouldn’t. 

He tried to ignore their conversation, setting a few chips down on the table. He went for mostly streets, as he had gotten the habit of doing. 

Sylvando took a dainty sip and smirked over his drink. “Oh, well, a little birdie told me that Eleven didn’t return to his room one night after meeting the  _ very _ handsome champion of Octagonia.” 

“ _ You _ could have told you,” Erik grumbled, eyes focused on the spinning ball. “You were rooming with us, remember?” 

“No more bets,” the dealer announced. 

“Wait,” Jade said, “Sylvando, what do you mean?” 

Erik sighed, waved over a server, and ordered a shot. He was going to need a few. 

“Wait, he…” Jade abruptly stood up. 

“Took you long enough,” Sylvando said with a scheming smile. 

“I’m going to kill him,” Jade said, spinning on her heel and starting toward the exit, abandoning her drink as well as the rather hefty bet she just placed. 

“Who?” Erik asked. “El?” 

_ “Vince,” _ she snarled. 

* * *

Eleven tossed his bag onto the bedside table of the inn room. It was a double, and he and Erik were sharing with Serena and Veronica that night. Veronica had an impressive ability to complain about everything under the sun - and  _ not _ under the sun, given the location. Eleven hoped that her constant chatter would help dissipate some of the awkwardness that was sure to be between himself and Erik when he finally got the chance to talk to him. 

He flopped down on the bed and groaned into the pillow. 

Just how long had Erik been holding  _ that _ in? 

After his room was tossed, Vince was terrified. Eleven didn’t know how much of that fear was based in an orphanage getting raided, and how much was of getting caught. At the time, Eleven thought Vince was scared of getting kidnapped. 

He also seemed worried for Eleven’s sake, though he didn’t need to be. Eleven would have been perfectly safe with his friends - safer, even, though at the time he didn’t know how much. But Vince had been in danger. Eleven didn’t even take the time for a second thought. 

Vince took the bed, and Eleven slept right against the door so he could be sure he would wake if someone tried opening it. Vince had protested this arrangement, but Eleven was used to sleeping on hard, uneven ground, so a slightly dusty brick floor was perfectly agreeable. 

Not that he had to worry about waking up. The threat of attack had little effect on his tossing turning. It was more because Erik was halfway across the city. 

Goddess. Did  _ everyone _ think he slept with Vince? 

Eleven was startled out of his musing by a knock on the door. He got up, and made it about halfway across the room before the door opened from outside. 

Serena. 

Sans Veronica, thank Yggdrasil. Not that he disliked her, he just didn’t think he could handle her mid-crisis. 

“Oh, hello.” She immediately noticed Eleven’s demeanor. “Are you all right?” 

< Does everyone think I had sex with Vince? >

If Serena was bothered by the foul gesture, she didn’t show it. “Well, no, not everyone…” Seeing Eleven’s shoulders sag in relief, she looked guilty, but not enough to lie to him, apparently. “I’m fairly certain Jade, Rab, and Hendrik don’t know yet.” 

Eleven plopped down on his bed. < I didn’t. >

Serena set her backpack at the foot of the other bed, then sat across from him. She leaned across the gap, a motherly expression on her face. 

“You know, it’s all right if you did.” 

< I… I know that, but I didn’t. Not when I- > He cut himself off quickly, but the damage had already been done. 

She waited patiently for him to finish the thought. There were worse people he could tell, he supposed. Like Sylvando or Hendrik, both honest to a fault and couldn’t keep a secret if their lives depended on it. Or worse still, Rab, who would probably try to set them up in the most uncomfortable way possible. 

That didn’t mean he shouldn’t try to save Erik from Serena’s general lack of subtlety and knowing looks. Or her sister, should she let it slip. Eleven shuddered to think  _ what _ Veronica might do. 

< Not when I was in love with someone else. >

Serena gasped gleefully. “Oh, who is it?” She was trying to hide her excitement, and failing spectacularly. 

Eleven crossed his arms and glared at the floor. A universal sign for “I’m not telling you shit.” If his face wasn’t red before, it certainly was now. 

A silence stretched out between them, bordering on awkward in how long it was. And then: “Oh, Eleven, I’m so terribly sorry.” 

She sounded so remorseful. Sure, getting asked about his regretfully nonexistent love life was uncomfortable, but the sadness in her voice made him feel guilty. 

< It’s fine, you don’t have to be sorry, > he rushed, with quick, jerky movements. < No harm- >

“It’s just, I’m not interested in men.” 

< Wait, what? > Eleven blinked at her for a moment before smacking himself. < No, sorry, in hindsight I realize what I said looked like a confession, > he signed, snickering. < I wasn’t referring to you, please don’t worry about that. >

“O-oh. Then who-” it took her all of two seconds to figure it out. “Oh, I see. It’s Erik, isn’t it?” 

Eleven pulled his legs to his chest and tucked his face behind his knees, hiding a blush that threatened to boil his skin. It was objectively more embarrassing than just letting Serena see it. 

She full-on cackled. It was still breathier and softer than the throaty guffaws of his mother’s laugh, but the volume was definitely approaching that range. Used to Serena’s sweet, tittering giggles, her outburst startled the shit out of him. 

< Please don’t tell anyone, > he signed weakly. 

Her laughter tapered off, her expression gentled. “I won’t,” she promised. “And… I know you don’t want to hear this, but I think you  _ should. _ Tell him, that is.” 

< Maybe on my deathbed. > He couldn’t risk throwing his whole friendship away. He liked what he and Erik had; there was no sense in complicating it. 

“Oh, Eleven…” 

< I’m serious. I can’t ruin our friendship like that. I care about him.  _ So much. _ I can’t lose him just because I was dumb enough to catch feelings. >

“Eleven, even if he doesn’t feel the same, do you really think your friendship is that weak?” Her tone was gentle, but Eleven felt like he just got owned all the same. “I mean, if you think about it- and this is coming from someone who doesn’t know him as well as you, mind. But I think… he’d let you down easy, it would be terribly awkward for a few days, and then it would be like nothing happened at all.” 

Eleven sighed, moving his legs back off the bed to dangle over the side. < I guess… a part of me is hopeful. And I don’t know if I’m ready to lose that hope. > He swallowed, trying to dislodge the heart in his throat. < But also, even if we did stay friends, we would lose something. >

Serena opened her mouth to protest. 

< You know it’s true. We sleep back to back, Serena. We’ve woken up cuddling more than once. Can you imagine how much more awkward that would be if he… if he  _ knew _ ? >

He could see pity in her eyes, and immediately regretted dumping all this on her. 

“I understand. I apologize for prying,” she said slowly. “But,” she stood up and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, “you  _ know _ he cares for you. Just think about it, okay?” 

Eleven nodded. He did, he  _ did _ know. And perhaps it wasn’t fair that he had kept it a secret. The intimacy they shared… was he taking advantage? 

“I’m going back to find Veronica. She’s been searching through the restaurants outside of the casino. Would you like to join us for lunch?” 

Sweet Serena, she was offering him a distraction. Either that or she was planning on siccing her sister on him. More likely the former, that was a gamble he was willing to take. 

Eleven nodded gratefully and grabbed his coin purse on the way out. 

* * *

Crowds of casino patrons parted like the red sea on Jade’s warpath. 

That was something she loved about her boots. If you can master the “murder” walk in heels, you don’t need to be recognized as royalty to have a clear path. 

She ran into Hendrik on the stairs down from the stage. Quite literally. She supposed he was just as accustomed to people moving out of his way as she was. 

He gripped her forearms to steady her. 

“Princess, are you all right? What’s happening?” 

“Jade.”

“My apologies, Princess Jade.” 

“Fuck’s sake,” she grumbled under her breath. “Let's move along, we’re in the way.” 

“R-right. So, what’s going on?” 

“Going to kill Vince.” 

“Vince? Who’s Vince? Princess Jade, what’s happening?” 

"He's the one we tracked down earlier." She huffed and pulled him aside, out of the crowds. “Vince was the reigning champion of the MMA tournaments before Rab and I arrived in Octagonia. We figured out that he was behind a series of kidnappings of countless MMA fighters over the years. He took dozens of people and brought them to their deaths, in exchange for that monster giving him some of their ‘essence,’ which gave him the victim’s strength and combat prowess.” 

Her hand clenched. The batch of fighters from that tournament had been lucky, only drained and severely dehydrated. But she had pulled some corpses from those webs as well. 

“He’s a kidnapper, a cheat, and a murderer,” Jade said, voice starting to shake in her fury, “and I found out about two minutes ago that he slept with my brother. Does that clear everything up?” 

“Yes, quite, but… why is he not behind bars?” 

“I don’t know!” Jade’s voice was verging on shrill. “He gave his whole sob story about the orphanage so Rab decided that ‘there had been worse things done fer less good,’” she slipped into his accent for that, a poor and mildly offensive imitation, “and then we just  _ let him go! _ He’s a  _ cannibal, _ why did we just let him go?!” 

Hendrik continued to stand still, almost at attention. It was unsettling how  _ little _ he fidgeted. “I’ve noticed that, like his grandfather, Eleven is forgiving to an extreme. I mean no offense, not that it should be considered offensive saying this, considering he is a wise young man, and should be respected-” 

“Out with it.” 

“You all tend to follow his lead. Though, if the…  _ other  _ thing you said is true, that may have contributed to his… willingness to forgive. In this particular situation.” 

Jade growled, and felt fangs grow in her mouth. That gave her pause. She’s had this weird ability since visiting the Watchers, one that not a one of them could make any sense of. Most of her companions tended to avoid looking at her when she used it, though it was always in combat so she had no chance to find out why. 

Hendrik was suddenly very interested in the wall. She checked her reflection in the shiny shield on his back. 

“Oh, my eyes are pink. That’s new. Oh. Bunny ears. What the fuck.” 

“Princess!” Hendrik protested. In her shock, she had genuinely forgotten his discomfort when it came to people swearing in front of him. It had always been a bit hilarious to watch his ears turn red when Erik and Veronica got into an argument. 

“Jade,” she grumbled, more a reflex at this point. If he continued to refer to her by title, she really was going to spank him. 

She smacked away the intrusive thought like it was a mosquito. No time to unpack  _ that. _

“Let’s go.” 

* * *

Jade sat down at the roulette table. She gave her bloodstained gloves a distasteful frown and chucked them into the trash can beside her. 

Hendrik was there shortly after, passing her one of the sweet fruity mixes, this one a startlingly bright blue. 

“Where’s Erik?” she asked, then took a gulp of her drink. 

“Oh, honey, you didn’t,” Sylvando gasped. “El’s going to be so upset.” 

“Relax, I just convinced him to spar with me. I smacked him around a little, that’s all.” Jade thought back to how much Vince’s nose bled when she broke it. “Okay, a lot.” 

“Unfortunately, there is very little we can do legally at this point,” Hendrik said. “Due to the fact that he’s the only adult guardian willing to take care of the children at the orphanage, the mayor absolved him of his crimes and allowed him to continue his duty.” 

"Oh dear, I didn't know he was still with the kids," Sylvando said. "Maybe you should have 'accidentally' put your claws through his head."

“Allowing a killer to be in continuous contact with children aside,” Jade said, “you should be more careful about rumormongering in the future.” 

"Hm?" 

Jade sniffed her drink with a frown, so Hendrik answered for her. “Vince, if his word is to be believed, did not have sexual relations with our Luminary.” 

“There’s no alcohol in this,” Jade noted, too proper to make it sound like a complaint. 

“You exerted a lot of energy, Princess. I believed it was imperative for you to be hydrated before drinking more.” 

* * *

Eleven paced the railing outside the inn, growing more worried with each step. He tried to sleep, he really did, but it was well past midnight, and Erik hadn’t come to bed. He wondered if Erik was angry with him. The optimistic part of him wanted to think he might be jealous. 

As he headed back toward the inn to check if he had missed him while staring off into space, a figure in the distance caught his attention. They stumbled along, clearly very drunk, making their way toward the inn. Their hair was sticking out in all directions, messier than Eleven had ever seen anyone’s, a bright blue- 

Eleven gasped and took off running when Erik tripped over a loose brick. 

He made it just in time, dropping to his knees so fast he probably bruised them, to catch Erik in his arms. 

“Oww, m’nose,” Erik grumbled into his shoulder. 

Eleven patted his back apologetically. It was a miracle Erik managed to make it down three flights of stairs in one piece. He thanked whatever deity who gave Erik his cruel life for sparing him this, at least. 

“Mmf, who-” Erik pushed himself up clumsily. Eleven kept his hands on Erik’s shoulders just in case he fell again. No other reason. “Elllll… ‘s you,” he slurred happily. 

Eleven flinched at the alcohol on his breath, but the grimace didn’t hold. Blasted or not, Erik’s smile could thaw the iciest of hearts, dispel the darkest of evils, and win- 

Erik’s stomach growled. 

Eleven shifted Erik’s weight so he was holding him up with one arm. 

< Erik, have you not eaten? >

Erik blinked at Eleven’s hand, then patted his own face a few times. “Say again?” 

< Have you eaten? >

“Ohhh. No.” 

Eleven sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He thought Erik had more sense than to drink on an empty stomach. This was not the first time he’d seen Erik inebriated, but it was the first time he’d seen him so completely gone. 

Eleven tightened his hold around Erik’s back and gripped his forearm with his other hand. He nodded up at the ceiling. 

“On three,” Eleven mouthed, sincerely hoping Erik was paying attention. “One, two,” with a grunt, he helped Erik up, supporting most of his weight. 

He was lucky Erik was so slight. Were he a beefcake like Hendrik, he would have spent the night on the ground. He got Erik settled leaning off his side, arm around his waist for support. It was a bit awkward, with Erik being about half a shoulder shorter, but he managed. 

Eleven tried to walk forward. Erik didn’t take a single step, just swaying with Eleven’s movement. 

Eleven made the mistake of looking at Erik. He was hanging off Eleven’s arm, cheek pressed into his shoulder, unabashedly staring him full in the face. His cheeks were somehow even more flushed in his drunkenness, probably from the effort of standing, and he wore the dopiest little smile. 

Eleven quickly looked away, trying and failing to fight his own blush. 

< Come on, > he signed with the arm not full of a crush that just got painful. 

“Where’s we… go?” 

< You need to eat. >

“What food?” 

Eleven awkwardly reached around him, just freeing up his hand enough to answer, creating a crossed pattern with his fingers and then flipping his hand on his palm. 

He realized too late that Erik wasn’t paying attention to the sign at all, instead leaning into his arms with a happy little hum. Curling his arms around Eleven’s shoulders, Erik nuzzled into his neck. Eleven gulped, trying to dislodge the heart in his throat. 

_He’s a cuddly drunk._ _He’s a cuddly drunk, and will likely be the death of me._

< Come on, > Eleven tried. 

“‘Kay.” 

Luckily, Eleven managed to get the two of them down the stairs and to the restaurant in one piece. It was the pleasant little cafe the twins had taken him to earlier. 

“Waffles?” Erik asked. 

Eleven nodded. He had never been drunk himself, but Gemma’s grandpa always swore up and down that waffles and fried chicken were the best food to eat in that state. 

Eleven had been a bit worried that Erik would start causing a racket like Dunstan always had, but as soon as the doors were open, he realized he didn’t need to be. The whole place had turned from a safe haven for travelers on a path to self-discovery to a madhouse of drunkards. His jaw dropped, watching servers expertly weave large plates of food around people who decided it was appropriate to stand on their chairs and swing their limbs wildly, and break up fights with offerings of discount milkshakes. 

“Two o’ ya?” a young woman shouted over the ruckus. She was wearing a nicely pressed uniform that looked like an entire pot of coffee had spilled on it. 

Eleven nodded, offhandedly hoping they had healers on the payroll, or at least some decent first aid. He knew all too well how badly hot liquid burned. It was why Amber didn’t let him near the stew anymore. Or didn’t, at least, before Cobblestone was leveled. 

The server led them past a very drunk, very large man, loudly boasting about the symphony his ten-year-old was performing in. He brandished his steak knife like a conductor’s baton. Eleven quickly put himself between the man and Erik, not knowing if Erik would have the sense to wiggle out of the way of a stray swipe in his state. The server didn’t even flinch, wearing a “same shit as always” face. 

They were led to a corner of the restaurant that was thankfully a bit quieter than the entry. They had only just sat down when another employee was there, pouring up coffees. Eleven almost forgot to stop them before they filled Erik’s cup to the rim. 

He picked up his own and started slowly working on it as he flipped through the menu, trying to figure out what Erik might like. 

“Ah, fuck.” Eleven looked up to see that Erik had added so much cream to his coffee that it spilled over. Erik watched helplessly as it spread over the sleek stone table. He looked like he was about to cry. 

_ Erik lost his memory, and he was terrified of everything. So worried that he would make someone upset and throw him overboard. Every tiny mistake sent him into a panic, begging for forgiveness.  _

Eleven felt sick to his stomach, and quickly moved to help clean up. He unrolled his utensils with shaking hands and started mopping up the coffee and cream, starting with the place where it was about to drip into Erik’s lap and working his way back. Once the spill was under a bit of control, he reached across the table with his off hand to squeeze Erik’s, still focused on the mess. 

An employee arrived to take over and get Eleven a new napkin. As he thanked them, he heard a sniffle from across the table. He squeezed Erik’s hand again, not looking up in an effort to give him the privacy to break down if he needed to. 

To Eleven’s relief, Erik seemed content for the rest of the time. He continued to cling to the other’s hand even when it became inconvenient, but he wondered if it was more for his own sake than Erik’s. 

When they got back to their bed, Erik curled in close. Eleven wondered if he could hear his heart thudding, with his head on his chest like that. 

“I’m glad you came back tonight,” Erik whispered. 

Eleven bit his lip. It was too dark to respond, and he didn’t want to risk waking Serena and Veronica by lighting a candle. He risked running his fingers through Erik’s hair, a comforting gesture that he maybe shouldn’t have given. Erik seemed to relax into him more as a response, all the same. 

They would talk in the morning. 

* * *

Morning came, and Eleven woke to an empty room. Not unusual, he was almost always the last to get up. Even still, he had half-hoped that a hangover would keep Erik in bed for a bit longer, so Eleven wouldn’t have to corner him later. 

He left the room and searched for his friends, knowing they would make themselves easy to find. 

Erik was waiting for him alone, leaned against one of the large pillars outside. None of the rest of their companions were anywhere to be seen. 

“Hey. You uh, ready to head out?” 

Eleven nodded, and took a deep breath. < I’m a virgin, > he signed quickly. He realized his poor word choice when Erik’s eyes bugged out. < Holy  _ shit, _ let me retry that, > he signed, waving his hand like he was shoving his own words away from himself. < I mean- >

He stopped as Erik doubled over laughing. He crossed his arms, embarrassment being the only reason he didn’t join him.

“I, uh, I think I owe you an apology,” Erik said, finally calming down.

Eleven frowned. < For? >

“Oh, man,” Erik let out a weak laugh and scratched the back of his head. “How about everything? Should I start with how I got sloppy drunk and cried all over you?” 

Eleven smiled and shook his head fondly. Outside the crying, and the worry for Erik’s health, it had been kind of… cute, but he wasn’t about to say that. 

“Listen... “ Erik said seriously. “Jade told me what happened. Or, didn’t happen, rather. So, I’m sorry. For assuming. That you, uh-” 

< That I had sex with Vince? >

Erik cringed. “Yeah. That.” 

Eleven wasn’t sure if he felt relieved or disappointed. The air was clear and he didn’t have to have that conversation himself, but he also wanted to, rather than having his sister step in and take care of everything. 

Also he just really, really wished everyone would stop talking about him having sex. 

< It’s… fine. I realize now that going off without telling anyone first… it’s only natural people made assumptions. I just wish someone had told me earlier. >

“I’m so sorry,” Erik murmured, eyes going to the ground. “We all are.” 

Eleven walked over and bumped his arm lightly, with the best fake smile he could manage. < I know you are. Come on, Hendrik’s itching to get to Heliodor, and I… wanted to go visit my mum and Gemma, if everyone’s okay with it. >

Erik’s face was unreadable, but his tone was kind. “I’m sure it will be.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably the most I've looked up ASL for any chapter 'cause Eleven had to talk with one hand so much. There are several different versions of the word "waffle," all of which require two hands to say. And the fact that it resulted in Erik getting an accidental hug was just the icing on the cake. :3c
> 
> Regarding names, a sign user would usually start out by spelling it, and eventually come up with a nickname. In Erik's case, I thought that the sign for "E" followed by unfurling the fingers into waving the "B" symbol for "blue" was appropriate, though I'm probably never going to depict it in the story itself. Nicknames are not self-assigned, rather, they're assigned by friends. [Here](https://www.signingsavvy.com/blog/9/Signing+People%27s+Names+in+Sign+Language) is the site I referenced.


	4. Heliodor Region

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A mighty crash was the first thing Erik noticed as the castle entry floor solidified beneath his feet. A young man had fallen on his ass a few feet away, apparently given quite the fright by eight people materializing out of nowhere. 
> 
> Jade immediately made for the throne room, Hendrik and Rab on her heels. In addition to the courteous greeting from princess to king, they also needed to make sure to secure accommodations. Without Yggdrassil’s blessing, Veronica had a much more difficult time of zooming than Eleven did, and they didn’t want to have to worry about the toll it would take on her should they need to sleep on the ship that night. 
> 
> Erik watched the twins and Sylvando meander into the castle entry, throwing waves behind them, before turning back to Eleven. 
> 
> “We teleporting out?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If there's any need for it, I plan to make a version of this chapter where the accents don't cause the dialogue to do... _that,_ so please let me know if I should post a link. Send me a message or ask on Tumblr, or leave a comment here. Whatever's easiest for you.

A mighty crash was the first thing Erik noticed as the castle entry floor solidified beneath his feet. A young man had fallen on his ass a few feet away, apparently given quite the fright by eight people materializing out of nowhere. 

Jade immediately made for the throne room, Hendrik and Rab on her heels. In addition to the courteous greeting from princess to king, they also needed to make sure to secure accommodations. Without Yggdrassil’s blessing, Veronica had a much more difficult time of zooming than Eleven did, and they didn’t want to have to worry about the toll it would take on her should they need to sleep on the ship that night. 

Erik watched the twins and Sylvando meander into the castle entry, throwing waves behind them, before turning back to Eleven. 

“We teleporting out?” 

< I thought I would take Garyl over. It’s only about a ten minute ride, and I wanted to make sure it was safe enough to make it through on foot if anyone needed to come get me… wait. We? >

“Oh.” Erik shifted uncomfortably, arms crossed. He’d made sure with the others beforehand, but hadn’t thought to see if it was okay with Eleven. The idea of being separated hadn’t registered in his mind, which was stupid, in hindsight. “If you want to go alone I can stay here, I guess.” 

Eleven shook his head. < I’m sure Mum would love to have you over. > He started heading out the door, and Erik trailed after him. < But are you sure? I’m just going over to say hi to everyone and maybe help with reconstruction a bit. You’d have to sleep in a tent instead of a castle. >

“I don’t- sorry, pardon.” Erik moved around the person he bumped into. “I don’t mean anything against the king’s hospitality, but I’d rather sleep in a tent. I’ve had nothing but crap thrown my way in that castle.” 

Sometimes literally, back when he was in the dungeons, but he didn’t say it. Eleven would start to worry, and the poor guy didn’t need _any_ more stress than he was already dealing with. 

Eleven looked thoughtful for a moment. < Yeah, same. > Erik wondered if Eleven knew something he didn’t. 

Outside the gates, Erik waited a moment as Eleven rang the bell to summon Garyl out of the pocket dimension that was his home. It had struck him as insanely weird at first, but there was never a good time to question it. Now that there was a giant fucking _whale_ waiting in the _sky_ for the Luminary and his companions, the extradimensional horse didn’t phase him much. 

Eleven got on the horse first, then pulled his foot out of the stirrup and reached down to help Erik up behind him. A whole hell of a lot safer than half-hanging off the side of an unfamiliar horse and yanking up the guy you met two days ago, only to have the creature shot down from underneath both of you. 

Yeah, Erik was still a little bitter toward Hendrik for that, if nothing else. 

This time, Erik had time to figure out where to put his hands. And then obsess over it. Should he put his hands on Eleven’s shoulders? His waist? Should he just cling to the back of the saddle, or put his hands in front of him and risk accidentally touching Eleven’s ass? 

It went on long enough that Eleven twisted in the saddle and signed, < Hold on, would you? >

He pulled Erik’s arms in a full embrace around his stomach, and urged Garyl forward, oblivious to Erik’s burning face. Sure, they had accidentally cuddled the night before, but as always, they pretended it didn’t happen after. This was decidedly not accidental, and it was broad daylight so they couldn’t pretend- 

Erik was knocked out of his crisis by a man on a huge fuck-off horse nearly running them over. 

“Sheesh, wonder if he’s compensating for something,” Erik mused as soon as the other rider was out of earshot. He felt more than heard Eleven chuckle in front of him. 

Eleven’s horse was pretty average sized, Erik noted. Sensible. He wondered if- 

And thus, the downward spiral that would last the rest of the short trip began. 

* * *

The moment the two arrived in Cobblestone, Erik jumped down and ran off, saying, “I’m sorry, I have _got_ to pee.” 

He needed to jump in a river. Preferably one that felt more like ice than water like the one he bathed in as a kid. 

He hid in the bushes, trying to remember the political climate in Heliodor, the smell of the dump, _something._ He didn’t return until he managed to scrub his dirty thoughts clean, but it took nearly stepping in the turd of some woodland creature with his panicked pacing to get to that point. 

By the time he got back, Eleven’s mother had already rushed out to greet her son. They hadn't noticed him yet. And when he heard a quiet, sweet voice, he tried to keep it that way for as long as he could. He felt like an ass for eavesdropping, but he justified that wasn’t really listening to their conversation, just Eleven’s voice. 

He had an accent that Erik hadn’t, but should have, expected. For the most part, he sounded like any country bumpkin from the Heliodorian foothills. There were also traces of other countries. The posh roll of Arboria and the upper class of Heliodor seemed to take over his speech a lot. Occasionally his words cut off in places like the people of Dundrasil. He noticed, at one point, he pronounced a vowel more how they did in Puerto Valor. 

He was almost sad to hear nothing of Sniflheim, but he supposed it made sense. Erik actively developed his accent away, more toward how Derk and Ruby sounded, so nobody would ask uncomfortable questions. 

Eleven started coughing, and his mother gently scolded him for pushing himself. He nodded and switched to signing. Erik supposed, after a year and a half on the road, with only grunting and shouting to work the vocal cords, he wouldn’t be able to talk as much as he had when he was home. 

Eleven brightened when he saw Erik approaching. 

< -So that’s why we’re here. Since Calasmos isn’t really doing anything, we’re resting up before we go fight them. > Erik came to a stop next to Eleven, who grinned at him. < You remember Erik, right? You met at the last- no, sorry, at the banquet? >

“Yes… he put ‘is feet up on the table right in front of the king and everybody.” She leaned toward her son, wearing a serious expression. “You shoulda seen ‘is face.” 

The woman threw her head back and laughed loud enough that it sent a nearby flock of birds flying. 

“You shoulda seen it!” she continued, still cracking up. “Havin’ dinner wit’ the Lord a’ Shadows, not that we knew at th’ time, and yer friend ‘ere made ‘im eat next to ‘is dirty boots! All of us from Cobblestone were itching t’ act out, for what he did, burnin’ the town to rubble like that. Oh, my sweet boy, you sure know how to pick ‘em.” 

“Uh… thanks, Mrs….?” 

“Oh please, don’t be playing polite now after what you pulled. Call me Amber.” 

< Is that Gemma? > Erik looked down the slope where Eleven pointed. Bright blonde hair tied into a red bandana. He remembered her from the castle. 

She was a nice girl. She reminded him of Serena in a way, a kind soul with her head in the clouds. She had begged a dance off Eleven before he went to bed early, and he happily obliged. He was surprisingly good at ballroom dancing. 

Erik hadn’t really known how to act around her. Mostly because she was completely focused on Eleven when the three of them spoke, and kind of acted like Erik wasn’t even there. Given that she had just gotten out of the dungeons to find that her childhood best friend wasn’t dead after all, he couldn’t really blame her. 

Eleven tried waving at her, but she didn’t see. 

< She’s not looking, could you- >

Erik was shouting her name before Eleven finished the request. Amber joined in a beat behind him. 

Gemma looked up, and then she was running like she had a dragon on her heels. When she was close enough, she leapt into Eleven’s arms. 

“Oh Eleven, it’s so good t’ see you!” she cried. Erik thought he heard some of Eleven’s bones pop. She pulled back, and gripped his hands as she continued. “Will you be stayin’ long?” 

He shook his head, then pointedly stared at his hands until she released them with an embarrassed laugh. 

< It’s good to see you too. And we’re only able to stay the night. >

Gemma only realized that Erik was standing there when Eleven gestured toward him. 

“Oh, ‘ello, who- Oh, you’re Eleven’s new friend, aren’t ya? I remember you, Eleven wouldn’t shut up about you after y’left. It’s good to see you again.” 

_New friend?_ Erik hadn’t thought about it like that in over a year. He supposed it make sense, now that he thought about it. A year and a half might have felt like a lifetime to Erik, when he was at Eleven’s side. But Eleven actually _had_ known Gemma his whole life. 

Erik managed to return the pleasantries, despite dealing with his third crisis of the day. Holy _hell,_ Eleven was allowed to have other friends, what was _wrong_ with him? 

“You got ‘ere just in time. We just finished setting up your ‘ouse, so you don’t have t’ sleep on the ground tonight! Come on, I’ll show you what y’ missed while you’ve been away.” 

Not giving Eleven a chance to respond, Gemma grabbed him by the hand and dragged him along down the path into town. 

“Uh,” Erik started, watching them disappear over the hill, “should I follow them?” 

“Oh, let them catch up. They ‘aven’t seen each other in ages, y’know.” Amber started walking along. “C’mon, why don’t you ‘elp me wit’ lunch?” 

“Thanks for bein’ patient with my boy. I know it doesn’t feel great to be ditched by yer friend like that firs’ thing,” Amber said, rifling through the cabinets for cooking ingredients. “He always did ‘ave a thing for that Gemma. Said ‘e was gonna marry ‘er, once.” 

Erik felt like his chest was full of ice. “Did he?” he asked, trying to keep his tone conversational. He stepped forward to help her move a big pot over the fire, mostly to keep his hands from balling up. 

“Yeah. That was years ago, now. Still felt that way when ‘e got on his ‘orse to ride out of Cobblestone, though, far as I know. He never told ya?” 

Erik shook his head. Didn’t trust his voice to not give him away. 

“Ah, well, a lot can change in a year, I s’pose. He’s been through a lot; probably sees the world a bit different now. Could ya bring that water over ‘ere?” 

* * *

About an hour later, Erik startled at the front door bursting open. He nearly dropped the near boiling hot pot of stew he was carrying to the table. 

Gemma was certainly one for entrances. 

Eleven trailed in after her. He and Erik made eye contact just as Erik was setting the pot down, and a small smile pulled at Eleven’s lips. It looked… uncharacteristically shy. Gemma elbowed him, a gleeful look in her eyes, and he dropped the gaze with a blush. 

Erik fought down the angry green monster that was was making its appearance far too often lately, and helped Amber set the table. If anyone noticed the tightness of his grip on the plates, they didn’t say anything. 

“So I was thinkin’,” Gemma said as they all sat down, “we should ‘ave a town mascot of some kind. Some kinda big, furry creature that makes Cobblestone really stand out, attract more people to come live ‘ere and help out with the rebuildin’ and the like. And then ‘Lev said-” 

< Gemma, please, it’s insane- >

“That there was a big ol’ critter up in the northern Snærfelt, with not much t’do with ‘is life, and I said-” 

< Gemma, we can’t just ask a holy beast to act as a jester for a ruined village- >

“Well why don’t you all ask ‘im if ‘e wants to come live here? And y’know what he said? He said ‘that’s a great idea Gemma, I’ll stop by for tea an’ ask next time we’re having a hike in knee-deep snow.’ Isn’t that exciting?” 

< I was being sarcastic- > Eleven looked to Erik desperately. < Is she even paying attention to me? >

Erik shook his head, hiding his amused smile in his spoon. 

“Oh, well, ya’d have to feed ‘im,” Amber pointed out. “I mean, what does a critter like that even eat?” 

Erik had no clue if she was serious or just playing along to humor Gemma, and a quick glance to Eleven’s expression said he didn’t have any idea either. 

Gemma shooed everyone away when they moved to help with the cleanup, insisted she had barged in without helping with the prep, so she should clean up on her own. She shot a pointed look at Eleven, causing him to look even more unwilling to go. Erik gnawed on the inside of his lip, even as he and Eleven were shoved outside. 

“So, what now?” Erik asked as the door slammed shut behind them. 

Erik looked to see Eleven moving a rock around with his shoe. 

“El?” 

Eleven jolted. < Sorry. > His hand paused over his chest for a moment before he was moving again. < Do you want to head up the Tor with me? I mean, it’s kind of dangerous and there were a bunch of monsters in the cave last time I was up there, but I figure we’ve had worse, and the view at the top is really nice. >

Erik pushed down the bubbling in his chest at Eleven asking to just go and _experience a view_ with him. 

“Yeah, sure,” he tried to sound nonchalant without sounding reluctant, “if that’s what you want to do.” 

* * *

Eleven led Erik up the path to the cave. Despite his strange behavior earlier, Eleven took the steps with confidence. Perhaps he stopped being sad about not spending the afternoon with Gemma… 

Lost in thought, Erik tripped on one of the stone stairs. 

< You okay? > Eleven asked, after helping him back up. 

“Yeah, I-” 

Fuck it, he knew better than to make assumptions when it came to Eleven and attraction. Didn’t he _just_ learn that lesson? 

“Are you and Gemma....” 

Eleven gave him a confused look as he trailed off. He had no idea of how to ask without giving his pathetically jealous self away. 

Erik swallowed. Crossed his arms. Bit the bullet. “Is she like, your girlfriend?” 

_That wasn’t incriminating, was it?_

Eleven gawked at him for a moment before doubling over laughing. 

Erik shifted his weight. His folded arms pulled tighter to his chest. “Uh. You good?” 

< Sorry, sorry, > Eleven signed, still snickering. < It’s just, been so long since I’ve even thought about that. You caught me by surprise. You have- >

Eleven pointed to Erik’s knees. He looked down, and dusted them off. It didn’t clear the grass stains he got when he took a tumble, but some of the dirt and rubble fell away. 

Eleven was waiting patiently for him to look back up. < I did like her, once. But when we saw Cobblestone leveled, so long ago, I gave up on it being an option. And then- > He stopped suddenly, the beginnings of a red tint on his cheeks. 

Erik tried to not let the eagerness slip into his tone. “...Yeah?” 

< …Nothing. But when I saw her again, I realized I didn’t feel that way anymore. Well, no, I realized that a long time before that. But I was more focused on… other stuff. >

“Like?” 

Eleven raised a hand. Lowered it. He stared at the ground a moment, his lips pursed, a crease to his brows. He looked troubled. 

< Saving the world, that kind of thing. We should get going if we want to be back by supper, c’mon. >

Erik decided not to press. When Eleven was ready, he would tell him. 

The path through the caves was uneventful, from the perspective of someone who fights a horde of monsters as an after-breakfast warmup. There were flocks of weird, wooly creatures that kept trying to stab them with what looked like oversized sewing needles. 

As weak as the monsters were, Erik almost felt bad for killing them. But kids just scraping eighteen - ignoring the fact that he couldn’t be more than three or four years older himself - had to come up here and make their way past them. 

After hearing Eleven had to do all the fighting, since Gemma never trained to defend herself through their whole childhood, Erik figured they shouldn’t risk leaving them where they could hurt anyone. 

They left the cave on the other end, blinking in the bright sunlight. Before Erik could really get a look around, a fearful shout drew his attention. 

Sitting a few feet from the mouth of the cave was Derk, bleeding from several large gashes in his arms and legs. As Eleven rushed forward to patch him up, Erik started scanning the area. 

_There._

The massive bird dove for Eleven before he had the chance to react. 

A boomerang caught it across the chest, knocking it out of its flight path. It shrieked in rage, and turned its attention on its assailant. 

“Get him out of here! I’ll hold it off!” Erik shouted, catching the boomerang on the return. 

Eleven scowled and reached for his own weapons as Erik turned his focus back on the monster. 

They made short work of the bird. Creatures like that just didn’t know what to do in the face of lightning coming down out of nowhere and frying their asses. 

“Why didn’t you run? I could have handled it,” Erik said, brushing the dust off his weapons and clothing. 

Eleven shot a glare at him, and turned his attention back to healing. Erik paused, and waited for him to finish up. 

< Not again, > Eleven signed. He helped Derk stand, his intense gaze not once leaving Erik’s face, before continuing. < I’m not leaving you behind again. >

Erik touched his chest, right above his heart where the scar still remained. He tried not to remember the feeling of dark magic ripping through his skin like paper. The feeling of rope crushing him to a pole, his chest struggling against it just to keep breathing. 

He still sometimes caught himself flinching away from Rab’s spells when he got too close.

He remembered the terror in Eleven’s eyes as Serena dragged him away. The way he shook when they were reunited, holding him like he would fade away into dust if he let go. But they never talked about it. Never got the chance, because they were on the run again before Erik was even fully healed. 

Erik had no idea Eleven was still carrying that with him. 

Derk coughed awkwardly. “‘Ey, I’m sorry to interrupt your moment, but… shouldn’t we get out of ‘ere before more of its friends show up?” 

Erik had honestly forgotten about him for a second. A part of him missed it being just him and Eleven, but that was selfish. Derk was hurt. Erik could obsess over his own troubles later. “Yeah, let’s- let’s get you to town. How did you end up here, anyhow?” 

Derk started rattling about his supplier and getting picked up as baby monster bird food as they helped him back through the caves. 

* * *

Gemma’s grandfather showed up for dinner, and with the addition of Derk, they no longer had room around the little table in the house. Amber grabbed some rough old blankets and laid them on the ground outside for a picnic. Erik guessed that these had been scavenged from the rubble, based on the tears and water damage. 

Everyone was quite taken with Derk. It didn’t surprise Erik - he’d always been the more charismatic of the pair. He knew that _far_ too well. He was telling a story that Erik was just a bit too familiar with, fortunately glossing over the illegal parts. 

Erik found himself trying to create more distance between himself and Derk on the picnic blanket. It was starting to feel a bit too small. He was no longer angry with Derk for what he did, but even now, it still hurt. Being so utterly replaceable that the person he thought loved him would be married only months after getting separated leaves a burn that isn’t easily forgotten. 

He’d practically migrated into Eleven’s lap before he realized what he was doing, managing to stop several inches away. 

Eleven was trying to apologize for the trouble he thought he caused. The mayor, far more lighthearted than one would expect of someone in his position, was waving it off. 

“Don’t be silly now, lad. Yer the Luminary. We all knew the Lord ‘f Shadows would level at least one town before ya managed t’ get to ‘im. Tell ya what, I’ll make y’a deal. You smash that blob of smoke outta th’ sky, an’ then you can stop feelin’ sorry for yourself. All right?” 

Eleven nodded, forcing a smile. Erik nudged his back, hard enough it tipped him forward a bit. The crease in his brow faded, the fake smile replaced with a real one. 

As they were finishing cleaning up, the sun crept closer to the horizon. Eleven watched its path, looking like he was mulling something over. 

“Something on your mind?” Erik asked, taking the blanket from Eleven and moving for the door, eyes still on him. 

< You didn’t get the chance to see the top of the Tor. >

Erik paused, his hand mid reach for the handle. “Well, the sun’s still up. If we head out now, and don’t run into any man-eating birds along the way, we could probably make it to the top before sunset, right?” 

Eyes widening, Eleven gave one quick nod. Erik wasn’t quite sure if he looked happy or terrified. He wondered if he should rescind his offer… but Eleven would just tell him no if he didn’t want to go, right? 

* * *

On the way up through the caves, they ducked around monsters, not wanting to take precious time. There was a lot more climbing than Erik expected outside. 

Up and down frayed ropes that were more moss than hemp by this point, ledges that looked like steps for giants, and at one, terrifying point, a path so narrow only a cat should walk it, hanging off the edge of a deadly drop. 

Erik wondered how many kids fell to their deaths here. Not many, he hoped, not any, given it was still a tradition. The people of Cobblestone were quirky, sure, but there was a soft love that blanketed the town, and he couldn’t imagine that wouldn’t extend to their children. 

Erik followed Eleven through yet another cave, legs starting to ache at the sharp incline. He was a bit scraped up from the worse parts of the climb, and was starting to feel a bit grungy from the dust in his hair. But then they got to the top, and it was all worth it. 

Erik heard himself gasp. He could see all the way out to the ocean from here. The land, almost entirely unsettled, was so thick with trees it just looked like a speckled green. A reflection of the dipping sun shimmered across the ocean. 

They had made it just in time. The sun was only just kissing the horizon. 

The view was breathtaking. 

Erik liked to pretend that views weren’t his kind of thing. This brought its own problems: they totally were, actually, and Eleven knew it. This did terrible things to his heart whenever Eleven got the opportunity to “drag him along.” 

Erik felt a hand take his, and looked over to see Eleven already watching him, the dimming light of the sunset only magnifying the red on his cheeks. He looked scared. Like the simple act of taking Erik’s hand was more terrifying than any monster. The other hand, unable to keep still, tucked a loose strand of brown hair behind his ear. 

Erik was stunned. He could watch a thousand different sunsets off a thousand different peaks, and none would be so beautiful as the man beside him. The fact that he was immediately embarrassed by the thought didn’t make it any less true. 

Eleven led him out near the edge, and pulled both of them seated. Stars were beginning to appear overhead, and he recognized even more of the celestial bodies from the book Eleven had found him back in the library. 

As the sea began to swallow the sun, Erik felt hair tickle his neck before a weight eased onto his shoulder. Eleven was leaning on him. 

Erik ignored the blush that was surely covering his whole head. “Don’t fall asleep on me, now,” he choked out past the lump in his throat. 

Eleven just hummed in response, and squeezed his hand. 

They were still holding hands. 

“El?” Erik finally risked looking at him. He blinked up at Erik upon hearing his name. 

Erik’s heart was pounding. He almost chickened out, but he had to ask, or he never would. “Is this… is this a date?” His voice cracked on the last word. 

Eleven’s cheeks turned a deeper shade of red. “If you want it t’ be,” he whispered. 

They sat there peacefully for only a moment longer before it got to Erik. 

“Holy shit,” Erik whispered. “Holy shit,” he repeated, out loud this time. “Hang on, I- I need a minute.” 

He reluctantly untangled their hands and jumped up. He started pacing, running his hands through his hair. 

“Erik?” Eleven’s whisper sounded terribly concerned, and Erik wanted to calm down so he wouldn’t freak him out, but also _holy shit, that’s his voice._

Erik groaned and buried his face in his hands. “Just. Let me freak out for a second.” 

He took a deep breath. Then another. Then a few more. Then he cupped his hands over his nose and mouth to slow the airflow so he wouldn’t start hyperventilating. 

“Okay!” Erik said, a little too loud. He flopped back down next to Eleven. “Okay. I’m good.” 

< Are you certain? >

“Absolutely sure. I’m good. I’m so good right now-” Erik cut himself off with a nervous laugh. 

< It doesn’t have to be, > Eleven signed. < If you don’t want it to be, please tell me. And maybe forget I said anything. >

He looked scared. Terrified, even. And a little bit heartbroken. 

“Oh, no, nonono, El,” Erik scooted back over and grabbed his hand, “I wouldn’t forget this moment for anything. Please ignore my meltdown, I’ve just… I’m not good at this. So please… you… want it to be too, right?” 

Eleven nodded, a smile slowly blooming across his face, so bright it put the sun to shame. 

Eleven’s title meant he was the one to bring light to a dark world, to be the flame of good. 

But in that moment, basking in the light of his sweet joy and unbridled affection, Erik believed that this must be why he was called the Luminary. 

* * *

A few hours later, Eleven zoomed the two of them to the town entrance. The feeling of teleportation was familiar. Eleven keeping hold of Erik’s hand, even well after their bodies got used to being displaced through space, was not. 

Eleven started down the path, Erik following in a daze. 

Eleven had whispered as much as he could, so they could hold hands for as long as they could. He wasn’t able to speak the whole time, occasionally freezing up and having to switch back to signing. And when Eleven had started coughing again, Erik thought of another solution. 

He had been embarrassed to suggest it, but Eleven seemed happy enough to lay his head on Erik’s lap. If he thought Eleven was beautiful standing, holding his hand, there were no words to describe how he looked with his hair fanning over Erik’s knees, smiling up at him, as they talked about what they meant to each other. What they wanted to be to each other. 

And as the last traces of sunlight dipped beneath the waves, they had just sat, hands folded together. Enjoying each other’s warmth, finding comfort in the sound of breathing and heartbeats. 

Erik floated along on cloud nine. He could not, and probably would never, get over how much Eleven’s trust meant to him. He swore to himself that he would spend the rest of his life working to deserve it, if Eleven would have him. 

Erik caught sight of Amber pacing outside the house, and slightly loosened his hold on Eleven’s hand. They had decided they wouldn’t bring it up outright, wouldn’t hide it either, but he still wanted to give Eleven that option should he change his mind. 

“Oh, there you two are, I was ge’in’ worried,” Amber called as they got closer. “Where’ve you been off to, any’ow?” 

Eleven’s hand slipped out of Erik’s. < We went up the Tor, > he signed casually, heading toward the house. 

She looked back and forth between them. Erik struggled to keep a blank face. He knew he failed miserably. 

“Oh, I see,” Amber said knowingly. “Well, let’s go to bed now. I think the two a’ you can squeeze into Eleven’s bed, ‘s long as you don't care much about personal space. If not, we got a few pillows and blankets, someone can set up on the floor.” 

Erik looked to Eleven to decide. They’d been sleeping next to each other for over a year, but he wasn’t sure if what happened on the Tor and that combined would be too much for Eleven. 

< We’ll be fine. >

Erik’s dopey smile definitely got more noticeable at that. “Yeah, we’ve had worse.” Those pods in the inn at Havens Above, namely. Though they did end up on the floor that time. “Thanks, Amber.” 

“Y’ can thank me by not gettin’ ‘andsy tonight; I’ll be a couple’a feet over, don’t forget it.” 

That sent both of them into blushing, sputtering messes. Amber laughed so loud it bounced off the stone walls. 

* * *

Eleven returned from bathing the mountain’s dust off his skin, looking every bit as soft and warm as he made Erik feel. _Damn it, I’m sounding like cotton candy dipped in molasses today._

Nerves dug their claws into Erik as he realized they wouldn’t fit in their usual sleeping positions. The bed was _so_ small. They would have to get close - very close. They’d been close the night before, but Erik had been drunk to hell. 

They’d been sharing a bed nightly for over a _year,_ damn it. He had no idea why he was choosing _now_ to freak out. Perhaps he’d spent so long trying to run from his feelings that, now they were allowed to catch him, all the meltdowns he’d been postponing would hit him in turn. 

He hoped not. There were a _lot_ of meltdowns. 

Other than a dusting of pink highlighting his cheeks, Eleven seemed unbothered. He curled up on his side, close to the edge.

Erik would have only enough room to balance. He’d slept on tree branches that would hold him steadier. They would be _touching,_ there was no getting around it. 

Noticing Erik’s unease, Eleven smiled up at him. There was a slight pinch to the corner of his eyes, betraying his worry. The sweet sincerity of his expression cooled Erik’s apprehension. He’d faced off against far worse situations than his partner’s childhood bed. 

No. They’d faced them together. And here, they’d do the same. 

Erik sat on the edge of the bed, startling slightly at the contact he made with Eleven’s legs, then lowered down. His body crowded Eleven’s. It was embarrassing, but he didn’t have much of a choice. It was either that, or fall off. Or worse still, make Eleven fall. 

Erik returned Eleven’s pleased smile with a wavering one of his own. He was so, _so_ warm. Puffs of breath fanned Erik’s hair, tickling his scalp. 

When Erik shifted, his side found the edge of the bed. He almost went tumbling off, but a warm hand caught him by the waist. 

Heart pounding, unsure if it was from the near fall or the boldness of Eleven’s actions, Erik’s eyes shot back to Eleven’s face. Even as his smile turned shy, he didn’t pull his hand away. 

Erik melted. He nuzzled into Eleven’s neck, pausing only to allow the arm trapped between them to move under his head. His own arms lay limp between their chests. His fingers found their home in the fabric of Eleven’s shirt, not quite gripping it, not quite hugging back, rather letting himself be fully enveloped. 

There still wasn’t enough room, but Eleven’s arms were a lifeline. 

* * *

Eleven woke slowly. Comfortably. More content that he had been in a long time. 

Even while on vacation, Eleven had been waking with a jolt. His bed was always empty, late riser that he was. He was never able to shake the feeling that one of his friends was being attacked by monsters while he slept, or even that one of his old human enemies was sneaking up on him. Hendrik had gotten an unfair share of screams those first few weeks, when he proved his fears _technically_ true. 

It was always fear pulling him out of sleep. If not nightmares. But this morning was different. 

When his eyes finally blinked open, he was surprised to find he wasn’t alone. He looked to the other bed to see his mother had already gone out, before turning his attention to the fluffy blue head tucked under his chin. 

Erik had wrapped every limb around him, and Eleven felt a bit like a ship caught by a tentacular. His arms clutched Eleven’s torso, the one trapped underneath Eleven almost certainly dead asleep. His legs had Eleven’s caught like a bear trap. 

“You awake, sweetheart?” Eleven whispered hoarsely, running his hand through Erik’s soft hair. His voice was still strained from yesterday. 

“Oh. Sheesh. It is. Too early to kill me,” Erik grumbled. 

Eleven laughed softly, then pressed a feather-light kiss to Erik’s hair. 

Erik went rigid in his arms. 

_Was that not okay?_ Eleven untangled himself to ask. He underestimated just how little room he had, and went tumbling off. 

Erik started snickering. Eleven pouted up at him, internally wincing at his stinging behind. 

“Sorry, it’s just,” Erik said between laughs, “the _Luminary,_ the _savior of Erdrea,_ felled by his own childhood bed.” 

Still laughing, and with Eleven giggling now, Erik gave him a hand back up to sit on the bed. 

Erik’s laughter cut off abruptly. His eyes went wide. “I’m courting the Luminary.” 

Eleven rolled his eyes fondly. < I noticed. I was there, remember? >

Erik looked like he was panicking, which made Eleven start to panic. < What’s wrong? >

“I just… you’re… and I’m…” _Oh._

< Hey, don’t, > Eleven started, < don’t use this as a reason to devalue yourself. Please. Luminary or not, Erdwin cared for Serenica as an equal, and I intend to do the same with you. >

Eleven tried not to cringe at his own words. Erdwin and Serenica had a love that people were still singing of, so it was probably a little soon to be making vows like that. 

“Serenica, she… she was reborn too, you know?” 

< Serenica came to me in the form of a small child and a person who would never be attracted to me, and by then, > Eleven signed, a blush rising to his cheeks, < I already had my eyes on… you. >

Erik’s face went beet red. “That. That long, huh?” 

< Sorry, is that weird? >

“No! No, I’m…” Erik looked away, gnawing at his lip. “Kind of in the same boat, actually.” 

A small smile formed on Eleven’s face. He buried it in Erik’s shoulder, arms lacing around his waist. It stretched into a grin as Erik hugged back, the heartbeat under his face picking up. 

* * *

Amber and Gemma met them at the gate. 

Eleven had decided to ride back to the city, since they were still quite early and it was a beautiful day. Erik was secretly pleased. Riding back meant he could have that much longer to put his arms around Eleven, and lean in under the guise of not wanting to fall off. 

He supposed he could just hug Eleven any time now. But he didn’t want to seem clingy. 

“Be safe,” Gemma said. “And ‘Lev, don’t forget what I told ya.” 

< Yeah. Thank you. > Eleven smiled, and glanced at Erik. < Seriously, thank you. So much. >

Gemma looked back and forth between the two of them, a grin splitting her face. She hugged them both, and Erik could have sworn he felt something crack. He hoped it was nothing important. 

WIth a giggle, she turned and ran back down the hill, Sandy hot on her heels. Erik might have been mistaken, but did she look a bit… sad, as she left? 

“What she said, loves,” Amber said. “Be _safe._ ” She fixed Erik with a glare, not unlike a mother bear growling at a creature that came too close to her cubs. 

Erik fought down a protest of _‘Hey, I’m clean,’_ which would have been wildly inappropriate given the audience, and instead settled for nodding with a gulp. 

< _Mum,_ > Eleven admonished. 

“Oh, all right. Just… look out f’r each other, okay?”

They both assured her they would, and she hugged them, too. She released Erik just as quickly as Gemma had, but her son, she was more reluctant to let go. Eleven, too, didn’t look ready to leave. 

Erik thought he saw Amber wipe a tear as they separated. 

* * *

The two ended up getting to town way too early, according to the clocks. They had hours before they were to meet their companions at the fountain. 

“What should we- careful,” Erik pulled Eleven to the side before a group of children playing tag could run right into him. “What should we do while we wait?” 

Eleven looked a bit pink. Might have something to do with the arm still around his waist. 

< We could… go to the shops up town, and make fun of the weird stuff rich people spend their money on? >

Erik laughed. “A man after my own heart.” 

If Eleven wasn’t blushing before, he was now. It felt good to be the one doing the flustering for a change. 

“But, I’d rather not, if that’s okay. Derk’s wife kinda creeps me out.” 

Eleven nodded. < When I first met her, she mistook me for you, and said that Derk told her all about your ‘fingers.’ >

Erik did his very best not to appear to freeze up. Despite the warmth coming off his partner, he suddenly felt cold. _Of course he did._

* * *

< This is a terrible idea, > Eleven signed. 

They were in the caves, deep under the castle. Under the dungeons, even. They had a grudge to settle. 

< Why’d you go along with it, then? > Erik shot back. His signing wasn’t as fluid as Eleven’s, as out of practice as he was. Despite the dangerous lives they lived, he didn’t need to be fully silent all that often. 

< Because a cute guy asked me to. >

Erik stumbled over the rock he meant to avoid. 

Eleven held a finger to his lips, then pointed at a dark mass up ahead. Erik fought down a curse. Had Eleven not noticed the dragon, Erik would have wandered right into it. 

< Should we wake it? Give it a fair fight? > Erik asked. 

< It’s a dragon, > Eleven signed. < Actually, yeah. Let’s wake it. >

< Is that sarcasm? >

< You’d know if I was being sarcastic. > Eleven was right. Though a lot of people were weirdly immune to it, Erik had figured out his tell. < I’d feel guilty stabbing it while it slept. I’m getting my shield, it’s too risky to not without Hendrik here. >

Erik nodded. It had been strange. The day before heading up to the World Tree, Eleven had that creepy-ass broadsword that looked too large for him to even lift. Things went back to normal after it broke, but then Hendrik joined them. Eleven was suddenly wielding dual blades like he had been training for years. Erik hadn’t known he could do that. 

Erik got into position, a disk in one hand, a boomerang in the other. His knives were in his sash, easy to reach if things got hairy. He crossed his fingers over the tops of his weapons, sweeping two “R” signs to the side. He hoped Eleven could see his ready signal in the darkness. 

Eleven banged the butt of his sword on his shield. The clang echoed through the cave. 

* * *

“And _where_ have you two been?!” Veronica shouted as soon as Eleven and Erik were in earshot. “We’ve been waiting here for a fucking hour!” 

Serena cringed at her sister’s word choice. She had become even more foul-mouthed since having her physical age drained, and Serena supposed she had lost quite a bit of maturity, despite Veronica’s insistence otherwise. 

The boys were hanging off each other. Eleven looked properly guilty upon realizing how late they were, but Erik was still cracking up. 

There were gasps all around as they got closer. Both of their clothes were covered in scorch marks. 

The healer’s eye searched visible skin around the burns for injuries, but it appeared that if there had been any, Eleven had already patched it up. 

They pulled away from each other when they got to the group. Serena noted that Eleven looked a bit saddened by this, but it was to be expected. The poor pining boy. 

“What happened?” Hendrik asked sharply. 

“Did you two get into a fight with a torch?” Sylvando fretted. 

“How didyae ever make it on yer own if ya end up like this after a day?” Rab fussed. 

“Would you all calm down?” Erik said. “We just got into a tussle with the dragon under the castle.” 

Eleven smacked his own forehead. 

Jade’s voice was verging on panic. “There’s a dragon under the castle?” 

Erik smirked. “There _was._ We took care of it.” 

“You reckless idiots!” Veronica threw her hands on her hips. “We can’t leave you dumbasses alone for one _minute,_ can we?” 

Serena saw a dip in Erik’s smile, before it was replaced with something a little less genuine. Eleven’s eyes flicked over to him. _Interesting._

< Can we head on so we can eat? > Eleven deflected. < We haven’t had lunch yet. >

“Oh, you poor things,” Serena said. She wasn’t sure herself whether she was just talking about the fact that they were hungry, or so obviously smitten with each other. 

“Let’s get a move on, everybody!” Sylvando hooked his arm around Eleven’s elbow. His voice sounded strange.

Everyone moved around, to find some point of physical contact as well, and then they were off. 


	5. Puerto Valor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The air of Puerto Valor was warm and smelled of the sea. Rab wanted to check on his old friend, and Eleven couldn’t very well protest without giving Sylvando away. No sooner had the group walked across the bridge than was Sylvando turning around, making excuses about powdering his horse. 
> 
> Eleven gave him a gentle smile as he backed up. He hadn’t fulfilled his oath yet, after all. There was no sense in forcing him into an uncomfortable situation if he wasn’t ready.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: alluding to deadnaming. It isn't explicitly stated, nor the theme of the chapter by any means, but y'all know what Hendrik says when he finds out about Sylv's childhood. I wanted to shake him in the game itself. Instead I wrote the first scene or two of this chapter and had Eleven (gently) shake him for me. 
> 
> If it's something that will bother you to read, simply skip down to the first line break. You won't miss much story-wise.

The air of Puerto Valor was warm and smelled of the sea. Rab wanted to check on his old friend, and Eleven couldn’t very well protest without giving Sylvando away. No sooner had the group walked across the bridge than was Sylvando turning around, making excuses about powdering his horse. 

Eleven gave him a gentle smile as he backed up. He hadn’t fulfilled his oath yet, after all. There was no sense in forcing him into an uncomfortable situation if he wasn’t ready. 

But then Hendrik, in a rare moment of genius, figured out who Sylvando was and convinced him to speak with his father. As Sylvando trotted away to mentally prepare, Hendrik grumbled to himself in frustration. 

Eleven wasn’t sure if he was meant to hear that Hendrik believed Sylvando had strayed from the knight’s path, but he wasn’t about to let it slide. Not with how hard Sylvando had worked to keep his oath, even in the face of the end of the world. 

< Hendrik, stop. If following the Luminary to save the world at one’s own peril is considered ‘abandoning his cause so utterly,’ I’m afraid you’ve done just as poorly. > Eleven hated pulling the “Luminary” card, but he knew it was probably the only thing that would get through to Hendrik. < And his name is S-Y-L-V-A-N-D-O, > he pointedly spelled it, though Hendrik would have understood the sign name. < If it wasn’t hard to refer to him as such before, it shouldn’t be now. >

“He’s a _jester,_ ” Hendrik protested. “He abandoned his home and his calling to run away with the circus. There he would have stayed, had he not met you.” 

< Hendrik. >

Hendrik flinched at Eleven’s pointed gesture. He hated how uncomfortable Hendrik was in this timeline. Saving the people of Cobblestone from Mordegon had, in Hendrik’s eyes, given him some small right to Eleven’s forgiveness, before. There was still a distance now, without the weeks of traveling alone, being there for one another when they would _both_ break down. 

That didn’t mean Eleven would let Hendrik treat Sylvando poorly. 

< Talk to him, > Eleven signed gently. < And be ready to listen, this time. Sylvando opens up when people are willing to accept him for who he is. >

After lunch, Eleven tagged along with Sylvando and Hendrik. He was ready to throw his Luminary weight around again, but it turned out he didn’t need to. Hendrik had taken Eleven’s words to heart, and spoke to Sylvando before heading up to Don Rodrigo’s home. 

Hendrik spoke highly of Sylvando the whole time. He called him a hero. While he didn’t correct Don Rodrigo outright, he cooly insisted on using the right name, often sounding unusual forgoing pronouns entirely in an attempt to say it more. 

Eleven still didn’t know why Sylvando had changed his name. At first, he thought it was a stage name. But seeing the way he flinched when his father referred to him differently in the other timeline, he realized it was more than that. Still, he never asked, not wanting to press. 

Hendrik, Eleven realized, probably _had_ asked. And Sylvando seemed a lot less bothered by this exchange, now that someone spoke up for him. 

When Don Rodrigo began talking about a mighty weapon in the Kingsbarrow, all three had their interest piqued. It seemed only Sylvando and Hendrik would be needed for the trip, and the decision was made that the two would sail out with Don Rodrigo the next morning. If all went well, they would be back by nightfall. 

The two left to prepare themselves for what was sure to be a difficult journey. Sylvando made off to speak with his husband, already caught up with the teleportation magic, who had the Stallion docked just outside of town. 

Don Rodrigo stopped Eleven before he headed out as well. “If you would, Luminary, I would like to have your _abuelo_ over for dinner this evening. You come along. I have matters concerning Dundrasil that you should hear.” 

< Dundrasil? > How had Don Rodrigo known its significance? Rab had insisted he hadn’t, that he had never mentioned his royal past to him. 

“I know Rab thinks me a fool, boy, but surely you do not. I have trained knights from all over Edrea, and Dundrasil is no exception. I would know her king when I saw him. So, you will join us, _¿_ _si?_ ” 

To Don Rodrigo’s growing frustration, Eleven hesitated. He had been wanting to go to the restaurant on the beach with Erik, and watch the sun set over the ocean. But they would be heading out in two mornings rather than one. Erik probably wanted the chance to chat with Mia some more, anyway. 

< I’ll be there. >

* * *

Erik sat on the end of the bed. They splurged on the fancy inn this time, rather than hiking all the way out to the ship to sleep. The room had an outside door leading to a balcony overlooking the ocean. 

He dug through his bag, shoving aside strange magical objects he had forgotten to give Eleven. Toothpaste, no, shampoo, no, lu- 

He flushed and buried the last item as deep as it would go. When he started pulling his hand back, it brushed a familiar bottle. 

“Ah-ha,” he mumbled, grabbing the sunscreen. 

Erik burned easily. This did not pair well with his cat-like tendency to sprawl out in whatever patch of sun he could get to. Living in a cave, it was good to get a few minutes of sun. Spending the day under direct sunlight, on the other hand… 

Serena and Eleven had gotten sick of healing him. The four of them pooled their resources to get him sunscreen back when they couldn’t really afford it. 

Eleven returned just as Erik was smacking at his back, trying in vain to reach. He always ended up with a big red spot in the middle that itched for days. 

His eyes followed Eleven as he walked across the room and put his bag on the bedside table. Once his weird fanny pack was ditched, Eleven sat down next to Erik and dropped his head on his shoulder. 

“You smell like sunscreen,” Eleven whispered. 

“Wonder why.” Erik jostled Eleven when he tried to reach his back again. Eleven sat up, and Erik immediately cursed himself for not dropping everything for at least a little while. 

< Do you need help? >

“No, I g-” Erik cut himself off. Hands. Bare skin. What was he _doing._ “Actually, yeah, if you don’t mind.” 

Eleven gestured for him to turn around. Once situated, Erik handed the bottle to him over his shoulder. 

After a moment, warm hands touched his back - _did he warm it up?_ \- and he heard Eleven swallow behind him. His hands were gentle as they brushed the sunscreen over Erik’s skin. 

Erik knew, logically, that Eleven was lingering _far_ too long to say he was being methodical about it, but Erik was absolutely the last person who would be caught complaining. Besides, the argument could be made that he was being thorough so he didn’t have to expend magical energy on a sunburn later. 

At least that’s what Erik told himself, chomping back any embarrassing noises he might make. Eleven was touching his _back,_ for the love, he shouldn’t be this affected. 

The door creaked open and they jumped apart. 

“Oh, there you are,” Serena said. “I’ve been looking all over- oh. Oh, dear. Did I interrupt something?” 

“Nothing! Nothing at all!” Erik yelped. Eleven shook his head vigorously. 

She probably thought something was up from those reactions alone, if she hadn’t already. “All… right. Well, Jade is setting up a volleyball net, and she sent me to fetch you if either of you wanted to play.” 

“Well, consider us fetched,” Erik said, still talking too fast. “We’ll be right down.” 

She offered them a light smile as she left the room. 

Grumbling, Erik flopped down on his face. He shot back up when he realized he was still covered in damp sunscreen and just got it all over the duvet. The creak of the door drew his attention. 

“Hey, where do you think you’re going?” 

Eleven frowned. < To… play volleyball? >

“Dressed like that?” Eleven nodded, confused. “You’re gonna stew. Come on, at least take your shirt off.” 

Eleven turned fully toward him and smirked. 

“I… you…” Erik sputtered. “Shut up! I’m just lookin’ out for you, sheesh.” 

* * *

The women played a brutal game. Erik already knew from firsthand experience that Jade could probably take them both single handedly with her arms tied behind her back. He did _not_ realize how fiercely competitive Serena would be. It was all they could do to stay on the defensive long enough to not get publicly humiliated. 

“El, what're you doing back there?” Erik called as another ball sailed past him easily. 

“He’s staring at your ass!” Veronica shouted from the sidelines. “Focus on yourself!” 

Erik suddenly felt too hot, and didn’t even notice as the ball fell right in front of him. Veronica and Mia cackled. The two made a frightful pair. 

Jade and Serena, to their credit, just looked like they felt sorry for them. They went easy for the rest of the game, but it was too late to recover their tattered pride. 

< I’m sorry, > Eleven signed, handing Erik a cup of water he got at the bar. 

Erik took a big gulp. “For starin’ at my ass?” he mumbled around the cup. “I wasn’t complaining.” 

Red bloomed from the bridge of Eleven’s nose and spread all the way to his ears. < I wasn’t doing that! > he signed frantically. < Veronica was just heckling me. I meant for getting distracted, costing us the match, and embarrassing you. >

“Oh, it’s-” Erik switched his cup between hands and held Eleven’s with the newly freed one. “It’s just a game, El. Don’t worry about it.” 

Eleven smiled, shoulders dropping. He squeezed Erik’s hand. 

“What had you so distracted, anyhow?” 

Erik was expecting it, but his hand felt too empty when Eleven let go. 

< I missed a spot. With the sunscreen. You got burned, right- > Eleven reached around Erik’s head and touched the back of his neck. The hand was cold from carrying the water. 

At least that’s what he would say if Eleven asked why he shivered. Because saying _“every time you touch me it makes my skin tingly”_ would be cheesy at best, and super creepy at worst. 

Eleven’s face was close. He hadn’t pulled his hand away yet, and was just sitting there, smiling, face less than a foot away. Erik swallowed, helpless to stop the gaze that dropped to Eleven’s lips. 

He let out a shaky breath when Eleven finally pulled back, oblivious to Erik’s inner turmoil. 

< Want me to take care of it? >

“Take care of wh- ah. Nah, save it ‘til tonight. It’ll just burn again.” 

* * *

Eleven looked for shells after Erik ran off, lowly cursing Mia for picking the pockets of yet another tourist. 

An old man in a full long-sleeved robe pulled Eleven aside as he wandered the beach. Bemoaning the “quality” of late, the self-proclaimed bunny girl connoisseur rattled on about Jade, ignorant of Eleven’s growing discomfort. 

< That’s my sister- > Eleven started to protest. 

“All the more reason you should share her!” he said, grabbing Eleven by the arm. His hands were sweaty and gross. Eleven made a point of not hurting humans, but as he struggled against the old man’s grip, he wondered if he might need to make an exception. 

_You do what’s right,_ Eleven thought, the old mantra more difficult to follow _now_ than when forgiving the guy who was half responsible for leveling his home. _You do what’s-_

“Hey,” Erik growled, causing Eleven to jump. “You might wanna let go before you lose that hand.” 

Sweaty whirled on Erik, finally releasing Eleven’s arm in the process. Eleven swiped his wrist on his pants. He hadn’t heard Erik take that tone since offhandedly threatening a bouncer to let Veronica into the bar. He had forgotten just how intimidating Erik could be when he tried. 

“Do you have a claim on her?” Sweaty accused. “You should know she should be free, free to strut her perfect bunny figure for all to see!” 

Eleven grit his teeth, but Erik retained an impressively cool composure. 

“You know what? You’re right.” Erik said. “I’ll go tell her right now. Hey Jade!” 

Jade looked over from her seat at the bar. Eleven quickly backed up, making distance between himself and the creep. 

“This guy wants to see you in a bunny suit! He will _not_ leave us alone until he does!” 

The man in question began nodding with a wide grin, oblivious to the stares from passersby. “I absolutely insist!” he shouted. 

Jade approached slowly, cracking her knuckles. Hendrik, who had been seated on the other side of her, stood to follow. She blocked his path with her hand, not taking her eyes off her target. 

Erik burst out laughing as soon as Jade was out of earshot. 

“Oh man, did you see the look on his face when she lifted him up by the collar? I thought she was gonna chuck him into the sea.” 

Eleven laughed softly. < Thanks. >

“For what? Jade did all the hard work herself.” 

< For getting him off me. He wasn’t wearing that robe because he was cold. He was sweaty as hell. >

“Of course, man, no problem. I figured you didn’t want to break his arms to get out.” 

Eleven found himself offhandedly wondering what it would be like for Erik to take that tone with him. In a different context. He felt his face burn at the thought. 

“You okay?” 

< Yeah, just getting hot. > _Technically not a lie._ < Let’s go swimming? >

* * *

Eleven fidgeted with his clothes. He wondered if he should wear something nicer - not that he really had anything other than his armor, and the parade uniform Sylvando wasn’t supposed to know about. In any case, his nervousness was less the attendees, and more the terrible track record with dining in the homes of important people. 

“C’mon, laddie, let’s get going,” Rab said, giving Eleven a pat on the back. 

They gave their group a wave as they passed through the dining area. Erik shot him a thumbs-up, and Eleven felt some of his nerves ebb. 

Meal-wise, the spread was every bit as impressive as the banquet in Heliodor, with more spicy food and less sleeping poison. 

Eleven tried to eat like a gentleman, just like his mum taught him. But his mum also taught him that putting one’s feet on the table was an acceptable thing to do to their king, so he followed Rab’s example through most of it. Inappropriate old man he may be, Rab was still royal. 

It was intimidating to converse with Don Rodrigo in such a formal setting, but the awkwardness dissipated in his grandfather’s presence. Old men chatting - that was something he found familiarity in. 

And once Don Rodrigo had Rab good and comfortable, he struck with his knowledge of Rab’s royal past at just the right time. Wine sprayed from his mouth all over the fine tablecloth, much to the amusement of Don Rodrigo and even Servantes. 

“If rebuilding Dundrasil is something you are willing to work for,” Don Rodrigo said, “I will help you, old friend. I have resources, and more manpower than I sometimes know what to do with. Besides, these children could use the work!” 

Rab stammered. “I… I dinnae know what to say. Seems more a dream of an auld fool to see it back to its former glory.” 

Don Rodrigo scoffed. “Are you willing to put your back into it or not?” 

“A-aye,” Rab said. “I was just thinkin’ it would take a bit more than a few dozen squires t’ get things up and running.” 

“You have allies, no? They failed you by not protecting your kingdom. They would at least help rebuild it, _¿_ _si?_ ” 

Rab protested. The hordes of monsters… no kingdom could have defended against a surprise attack like that night. Eleven knew this, but kept it to himself. As far as Rab knew, the only eyes Eleven had observed the fall of Dundrasil with were that of an infant’s. 

The Gloomnivore, as it called itself. Eleven made a mental note to find a way to get to it without raising too many questions, and free his father’s soul again. 

“Well, that still leaves the matter of who’d rule it,” Rab said. “I’m gettin’ too up there to be sitting on a throne for much longer.” 

Don Rodrigo gestured at Eleven. “Have you forgotten your own grandson?” 

Eleven blinked at the hand waved his way, wondering what that could possibly have to do with him. 

“Aye, I s’pose the crown prince is the obvious choice.” 

Eleven sat with his fork halfway to his mouth, processing. He felt separated from the fact that he was technically royalty. Being the crown prince of Dundrasil meant nothing more than more people to save, and the idea of it being anything but another terrible fight felt like being reminded of a recurring dream he had as a child. 

They wanted him to be king. 

Fear cut through him like ice. There were a lot of titles he had to get used to through his life. Farm boy, a title he wore with a smile when traveling merchants said it fondly. Little soldier, when Grandpa Chalky proudly declared he had nothing left to teach him as his mother wiped her tears. Darkspawn. Luminary. Hero. 

But as the conversation continued without him, he felt nothing more than the child who grabbed bandanas out of trees and drew eyebrows on dogs. He grew up in Cobblestone. For most of his life, that was all he ever knew. For the two and a half years beyond that, it was a constant chain of running to and from danger, with rarely more than a week’s rest once every blue moon. 

He never considered anything beyond those two worlds for himself. It didn’t help to think on a future he might not have. Since being thrown in the Heliodor dungeons, his mind had always been fixed in the present. 

“Y’ all right, laddie? I kinna lost ye back there,” Rab said as they left for the evening. 

< I’m not- > Eleven started. He wordlessly wrung his hands as they continued to take several more steps forward. < I don’t think I’m fit to be a king. >

Rab put his hand on his grandson’s shoulder. Or tried, rather, as he only made it to about the mid-back. “El, listen t’ me. Yer a kinder man that any I’ve met in a long, long time. An’ if it’s a matter of experience, I’ll be right there beside you, t’ guide ya every step of the way.” 

Eleven didn’t have words for all his insecurities, at that moment. And even if he did, he wasn’t sure if it was fair to dump them all at Rab’s feet when he was so happy at the prospect of having his home rebuilt. So Eleven hesitated. 

“Jus’ sleep on it, will ya? That’s all I ask. If ye wake up one morning and think to yourself, ‘that’d be a fine way t’ spend my life,’ that’s fantastic. If ye think, ‘I think death at the hands ‘a monsters would be a better way to go,’ that’s fine too. It’s _your_ future ye should be worryin’ aboot.” 

Eleven nodded, but his hands stayed silent. 

* * *

Erik was waiting up for them when they got back to the room. He relaxed on top of the covers in his sleep clothes, with a book that _might_ not have belonged to him open on its side. Eleven smiled at him as he went about getting ready for bed. Rab didn’t even take his hat off before flopping down on the bed closest to the door and starting to snore. 

They had lost the draw on that one, truly. Only Serena could rest easily through the storm that was Rab’s sleep. 

“How’d it go?” Erik whispered, as Eleven shed his shoes and outer tunic. 

Eleven paused, then walked toward the balcony door, gesturing for Erik to follow. 

As the door shut behind them, Erik held out his arms, a hint of hesitation in his eyes. Eleven half stepped, half fell into them. He sighed, tension leaving his body with his breath. 

“That bad, huh?” Erik murmured. 

“Jus’ tired,” Eleven whispered. “They were talkin’ about rebuilding Dundrasil.” 

“Aww, were you bored?” 

Eleven hummed in affirmation. 

“So why’s your heart beating so fast? I can’t imagine hugging me affects you _that_ much.” 

It did affect him, but not in a way that brought panic - Erik’s presence was a balm, a warm blanket by the fire on a stormy day, not something to get worked up over. Eleven sighed. Erik was far too perceptive. 

“They… they asked me as…” Eleven swallowed. “As the crown prince,” the words felt foreign in his mouth, “if I would be king. After Dundrasil is rebuilt.” 

“Oh, that’s…” Erik pulled back to study Eleven’s face, arms still wound loosely around his back. “That’s a good thing, right? A big castle, all the riches you’d ever want, hundreds of people attending to your every need-” 

“And thousands relying on me t’ make the right decisions.” Eleven’s voice cracked with his whisper. “I- I can’t, I couldn’t-” 

“Hey, hey, hey.” Erik pulled Eleven back into him. “You’d be great, Elli. I know it.” 

Not for the first time, Eleven’s voice failed him. He shook his head, trembling arms gripping Erik tightly. 

“Shhh, it’s okay. I don’t imagine you have to decide right now,” Erik murmured into Eleven’s hair. “We have a vacation to enjoy, and a jelly stain to wash out of the sky. Let’s focus on that, huh?” 

Eleven nodded, moving his hand between them. 

“You better not be apologizing to me with that.” 

Eleven sheepishly wound his arm back around Erik’s waist. Erik chuckled softly. They held each other silently for a moment, relaxing into each other’s company. 

“Do you want to talk about something else?” Erik asked, pulling back. He didn’t go far, just enough to free Eleven’s hands. 

A nod. 

“You missed out on a wild dinner,” Erik began. “You should have _seen_ what Mia ordered.” 

They spoke about nothing well into the night. 

The moon was high, midnight close. Erik sat on the railing, with Eleven leaning against it, arms wrapped loosely around his partner’s waist. 

_“You shouldn’t sit on that,” Eleven frets._

_“Who’s going to stop me?”_

_“You’re going to fall.”_

_Erik smirks. “You’d catch me.”_

_And that was that._

Conversation tapered off as Eleven’s voice grew strained; he preferred holding Erik over continuing their talk. Despite both their weariness, neither wanted the moment to end. 

All Eleven could hear was the sound of breathing, Erik’s heartbeat, and the sea. A sudden gust of wind from inland startled the sleepiness away, and his arms tightened around Erik to make sure he was held steady. 

He smiled as Erik’s soft laughter shook him. “You got a leaf in your hair,” Erik said. “How did you even manage that?” 

Eleven blinked up at him, not quite processing. 

“Let me.” 

There was fondness in Erik’s eyes, not filtered through a fear of rejection. Eleven hadn’t realized just how much Erik had been holding back before, but as his chin was tilted up with an ungloved hand, the gentleness leaving him trembling, the other hand treading through his hair, he couldn’t imagine going back. 

If he had to do it all again, from the dungeons to the world tree to the time sphere, he would. All for this moment. 

“There.” Erik flicked Eleven’s nose with the leaf, then released it to the wind. 

Their eyes met again, and Eleven swallowed. Erik could probably feel it, with his hand still cupping Eleven’s chin. 

Erik took a deep breath. His tongue flicked out to wet his lips, drawing Eleven’s eyes to Erik’s mouth. He found himself unable to look away. 

Erik’s hand slid along Eleven’s jaw, the thumb running along his cheek. 

“Can I…” Erik whispered, breath fanning Eleven’s face. _When did he get that close?_ “Can I try something?” 

Eleven’s heart was racing. He barely managed to nod. Lightning ran through his body, much like when he used his power, but the sensation was not concentrated in his hand; it was _all over._ He was pretty sure he was shaking. He couldn’t say he’d never thought about it, but he’d also never… there wasn’t ever a chance to… 

His eyelids fluttered closed as Erik inched closer still, slowly, as if he was afraid Eleven would try to pull away. 

Their lips only just brushed. It couldn’t have been more than a split second. But it felt more than that. Not, perhaps, in time, but in importance. He wondered if this intensity was normal, if all kisses were like this, or if it was just because of how absolutely gone for Erik he was. 

Erik’s lips were incredibly soft. Eleven immediately missed them as he pulled away, and only just managed to not chase Erik right off the balcony. 

“Was that okay?” Erik whispered, running a thumb along his cheek. 

Eleven nodded, gaze locked on Erik’s face. He couldn’t look away even if he wanted to. 

Erik ran his fingertips along Eleven’s lower lip. “Do you want me to do it again?” 

Nodding, an embarrassing whimper escaped him. He couldn’t help it. 

Eleven didn’t wait for Erik to cross the full distance between them this time. He cradled the back of Erik’s head with one hand, the other keeping a grip on him to make sure he didn’t fall. 

* * *

Rab woke to the creak of the balcony door. Judging by his specific level of tiredness, it must have been a bit past midnight. He couldn’t imagine what those boys were doing still up. 

He heard whispering followed by a soft giggle. Too high to be Erik’s; it must have been Eleven. A single set of footsteps could be heard moving toward the bed. That was _definitely_ Eleven. Erik always muted his footsteps, even more so under the cover of darkness. It was instinctive. The poor kid wasn’t allowed to be annoying a single day of his life, having to steal every time he needed some proper food in him. 

Then Rab heard something that didn’t make a lick of sense. 

He cracked an eye open. Sure enough, he saw the silhouette of two people pulling away from each other, hands reluctant to let go. The angle of their movement could only mean, no matter what way he sliced it, that they had just kissed. 

His eyes closed again. There was shuffling as the two got into bed, then more whispers. After a bit more rustling of blankets, it was quiet again. 

The shock slowly faded, and Rab found a smile to replace it. It was good they found love in difficult times such as these. Especially those two; both knew better than anyone what the other had been through. 

As weariness began to claim him once more, a realization bubbled to the surface. He knew far too well the pressure of producing an heir as the ruler of a nation. He would have to talk to Eleven in the morning. 

* * *

When Eleven woke, all he could see was blue. 

He choked on the rather enormous amount of hair that had made its way into his mouth. 

“Gross,” Erik mumbled. He was almost entirely on top of Eleven, head pillowed on his chest. Erik seemed to have learned from his mistake of the previous night, arms lying limp on either side rather than wrapped under. He had one leg thrown over Eleven’s thigh, with the other dangling off the wrong side of the bed. 

Erik had shed his sleep shirt sometime in the night. It was hot in Puerto Valor, even after the sun went down, so a snowball like him was probably melting. His skin was soft under Eleven’s hands, unusually so for a battle-hardened fighter. Despite everything, Erik took great care in his appearance. 

Eleven hoped he could get used to this. He hoped Erik would never go back to waking early and leaving him to sleep alone for another hour or so. 

Brushing the hair out of his eyes, Eleven glanced to the other bed. Rab had already gotten up for the day; not surprising, as late as the two stayed up. 

If not already, Rab probably figured out they were… involved, by the way they were laying. It wasn’t as though they were trying to hide it, certainly not that they were ashamed, it was just a bit of an awkward way to find out. 

Eleven curled his arms around Erik’s shoulders. When the fabric of the sleeve scraped the back of Erik’s neck, he let out a hiss of pain. 

Eleven immediately released his hold and ran his fingertips worriedly along Erik’s back. 

“Sunburn,” Erik said, answering the unspoken question. 

Shifting Erik onto the bed, Eleven sat up. It was comparably much nicer than any injury he’d seen lately, but still quite terrible as far as sunburns went. He apologetically traced his hand around the edges. It was his fault for being more focused on the way Erik’s back muscles felt that properly protecting him. 

“I’m fine,” Erik grumbled. Eleven could just see him begin to smirk, with his face mostly pressed into the pillow. “Unless you wanna kiss it better.” 

Regardless of whether Erik was joking or not, Eleven had never been able to deny him anything. He pressed a lingering kiss to the back of Erik’s neck. Erik gasped as the rush of healing magic flowed into his skin. 

“Better?” was Eleven’s raspy whisper, lips just brushing the tip of Erik’s ear, which appeared to be where the sunburn had moved to. His voice was absolutely killing him, but he was fast discovering a love of making Erik squirm. 

And squirm he did - literally - before twisting around and rolling Eleven onto his back. He hovered over him, arms on either side of his head. 

“Tell me if this is too much,” Erik said. He gave him room to. If Eleven wanted to protest with his hands or his breath, he could easily do either. 

It _was_ a bit too much. 

Eleven wanted more. 

Hands gripped surprisingly downy blue hair - _Holy shit why is he so soft everywhere?!_ \- and lips came crashing together. 

Erik let out a surprised grunt that turned into a pleased hum. Eleven still wasn’t quite sure what he was doing, but Erik didn’t seem to mind - until he did. 

He pulled away with a wince, and Eleven tried to not look like a kicked puppy. 

“No, I’m sorry, don’t make that face. It’s just… we both have _really_ bad morning breath.” 

Relieved, Eleven started giggling. 

“Ack! Don’t blow it in my face!” Erik was grinning. “Come on, you left your toothbrush in the washroom.” 

Eleven weighed his options. He _could_ tell Erik he couldn’t very well stand while stuck under him. Or he could grab him by the thighs and lift him standing from a laying position, and the way Erik’s face flushed was just too good to pass up. 

Erik yelped and threw his arms around Eleven's neck, ankles locking around the waist. 

“On- on second thought, I might need the washroom to myself. Maybe for… ten minutes? Twenty?” 

Eleven kissed Erik’s cheek apologetically and set him on his feet. 

< Too much? >

“Or not enough. Gah, forget I said that. Just toss me in the ocean, would you?” 

* * *

Even as the one who always slept the latest, Eleven was used to waking with the sun. It couldn’t have been more than a few hours past when they usually woke, up ridiculously late or not. The inn’s kitchen was nowhere near done serving breakfast for the day. The dining area was packed, and the professional chefs were working at top speed to keep up with the demand. 

Out in the dining area, only a few of their companions remained. Veronica, eating enough to feed two grown men, was seated across from Serena. Serena had only a small bowl of porridge for herself, as eating much more than that a few hours after waking didn’t agree with her. 

Eleven wondered if the twins had stayed up late working on their combo spells again. Hopefully one that wouldn’t drain both their magic reserves dry, this time. He returned a cheerful wave as he waited for his food. 

The only other still sitting was Rab, alone at a small two-person table. He was sipping coffee and reading what appeared to be a book on magic theory. As Eleven walked past, he could just make out the bottom of an impossibly high heeled shoe under the slipping cover. 

Upon noticing Eleven, Rab slammed his book shut with enough force that, despite the noise of the dining hall, the sound still turned some heads. 

“Eleven! Can I have a moment of yer time?” 

Eleven glanced to Erik, who gave a casual wave. “I’ll go sit with the twins.” 

Setting his food down, Eleven slid into the chair across from Rab. 

“Sorry to take ye away from yer…” Rab trailed off and considered for an awkwardly long time. _Ah, he knows._ “From Erik. I just got to thinkin’ about something, and I was hopin’ for an ear t’ ramble at, if ye don’t mind too terribly. All this talk about Dundrasil got me thinkin’ about my parents, you see.” 

Eleven nodded, always willing to lend an ear when his companions needed one. He took a sip of his drink. Orange juice, because he was a baby. And he didn’t want scurvy. 

“Y’see, the queen and queen consort were under a lot of pressure to- are ya alright, laddie?” 

Eleven waved off Erik, Serena, and Veronica, who all saw him choke from across the room. They looked ready to run over and fight his juice. Eleven hoped Veronica wouldn’t shoot a fireball at it; hot orange juice is nasty. 

< I’m fine, sorry, > Eleven signed. < Continue? >

Rab didn’t look upset, more understanding. Maybe a bit concerned, due to his grandson’s affinity for inhaling liquids. _Imagine how he’d react if he saw me turn into a fish._

“So the queen and her consort were under a lot ‘f pressure tae produce an heir. Nobody cared who the queen married, o’course, but a lot of people were clamoring about finding a partner who could… help with the heir-producing process, so to speak, so th’ family line would carry on.” 

Rab sipped his coffee, giving Eleven a moment to process. “But Mother didnae want that. So she and her wife put on disguises and took to the streets. They went to the worst orphanage in the worst part of town, and found a kid who lost everything. Then they brought ‘im back and named him heir to the throne. 

“Och, there were complaints of course. Crotchety auld people who sat on th’ council for too long. But they couldn’t do anything about it. There were always laws in place allowing the monarch to name an heir, should they not be able to have one from th’ loins.” 

Eleven blushed at the terrible word choice, gaze stuck to his food. 

Rab laughed good-naturedly, and patted Eleven’s forearm. “I don’ know if this relates to yer concerns from yesterday, but I hope I’ve at least let a weight off ye.” 

The eyes still trained on his food went wide. He hadn’t even _begun_ to think about heirs, not with his future put so far out of his mind for so long. And paired with that would be, what, marriage? It was something he imagined a lot when he was young. But that was a long time ago. 

Eleven tried to conjure up the daydreams he used to have, with one person being replaced by someone more relevant. _Oh, yikes, even imaginary Erik looks uncomfortable in that dress._

Would Erik even _want_ to marry him? Would he be happy as king consort? It felt far too soon to even think about either of those things. 

The thought of ruling alone was worse. He couldn’t imagine a life without Erik in it. Perhaps because, even when they were apart, he hadn’t seen it as permanent. Perhaps because the months he spent without his companions were prefaced by his catastrophic failure, and every single one of them not by his side felt like a piece of his heart missing. 

He remembered that week after they defeated Mordegon. He’d tossed and turned in the tent he shared with his mum, missing the person he had slept next to since the first night in the Manglegrove. After the fall of the World Tree had been far worse; months of pacing the edges of the campfire’s dying light, or the deck of the ship, wondering if Erik was alive, feeling ashamed of how he worried more about him than any other. 

“I s’pose I’ve put more troubles in yer head that I meant to lift. I’m sorry.” 

Eleven shook his head, trying to pull his face into a neutral expression. < Just thinking too hard. >

“Listen, ye don’t have t’ make a decision now, or when we beat Calasmos, or even when we get enough together to work on rebuilding. Just tell me you’ll come and visit auld Rab every once in a while?” 

Forcing himself to relax, Eleven sighed. < I can do that. >

* * *

Erik ignored the concerned looks the twins kept sending him. Even _Veronica_ was worried. 

He shouldn’t be moping, he knew. He spent most of the day and then the entire night with Eleven. It was only the second meal in a row they didn’t eat together. 

_Goddess,_ he was so _clingy._

“It’s a beautiful day for a picnic,” Serena mused, pulling Erik out of his thoughts. “I wonder if there are too many monsters out in the field to try?” 

“Are you crazy?” Veronica admonished. “Even if there’s only one flowey bastard out there, it’s not worth it. We’re on _vacation,_ and I can only think of two people dumb enough to pick fights when they don’t have to.” 

Erik smirked at her. He knew, after more than a year of dealing with her particular brand of care, that Veronica was just worried about everyone. Much like his sister, she just had her own harsh way of showing it. But also like his sister, that wouldn’t stop him from messing with her. 

“You know what, Serena? It _is_ a good day for a picnic.” Veronica wouldn’t tell _both_ of them no. Not anymore, at least. Erik took a smug sip of his drink.

Coffee, because he wasn’t a baby. And maybe he _wants_ scurvy, _El._ It had nothing to do with how he knew Eleven would sneak sugar in his drink when he “wasn’t looking” to protect his tough guy image. It _certainly_ didn’t have anything to do with how frickin’ _cute_ Eleven was when he was trying to be sneaky. 

“Ugh, fine. Just don’t blame me when I light your ass on fire for getting too close to something I’m trying to fry.” 

“What,” Erik said, “you’re coming?” 

“ _Obviously._ I’m not letting you get my little sister killed. Or the Luminary, for that matter, because I know he’d follow you into hell.” 

Serena began to protest that Veronica was hardly even a few minutes older, but Erik wasn’t listening. Couldn’t hear, through the sudden rhythm of his heart pounding in his ears. 

* * *

That evening found the four of them laughing around the dinner table. They had gone out to the restaurant on the beach, and it was through Eleven’s insistence and Serena’s rare refusal to be an enabler that had Erik and Veronica sober. 

“I can’t believe,” Erik said, “it _threw_ you into all of us, El. We went down like bowling pins.” 

“It was quite comical, looking back on it,” Serena agreed. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Veronica scoffed playfully. “You all would have _died_ if not for me burning it to a crisp.” 

< We would have died if not for Serena healing your broken arm seconds before you did that, > Eleven pointed out. 

“Hello, boys and girls!” Sylvando said, startling Erik. _Where did he even come from?!_ “It seems I missed quite the party.” 

Erik pretended to complain as he squeezed closer to Eleven on the bench, making room for Sylvando. He secretly reveled in the excuse for more contact. Their shoulders and thighs pressed against each other, and their off hands were free to lace together under the table. 

“We went on a picnic in the fields,” Serena was saying. “It was lovely.” 

“Yeah, when we didn’t have giant plant demons chomping up our asses,” Veronica huffed. 

Sylvando clasped his hands, a bright grin crossing his face. “Aww, you had a double date? How _romantic~_ ” 

Erik rolled his eyes. “Ugh, you know they’re sisters. Don’t be gross.” 

Silence. Everyone at the table turned to stare at him. 

Erik frowned. “Wh-” 

The first one to break, Serena hid her giggles behind her hand. Sylvando’s actual meaning finally clicked. 

“Wait-” Erik started, face heating up. 

Eleven’s silent laughter shook Erik’s right arm. Pink dusted his cheeks.

“Wait,” Erik repeated, causing Sylvando to snicker too. 

“All- all right, yuck it up,” Erik grumbled. “I just didn’t expect Sylv of all people to be saying stuff like that. What would your husband say?” 

“Dave owes me money,” Sylvando laughed. “I can’t believe _that_ is what got you to admit you two are together. So? How did it happen? Details, details, come on!” 

Erik turned his head away and groaned into Eleven’s shoulder. Eleven only laughed harder, and the shaking jostled Erik’s face when Eleven clumsily kissed his forehead. 

“They’re _together!?_ ” Veronica squalked at Sylvando. She whirled on Eleven and Erik. "You're _together?!"_


	6. Gallopolis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Why did you choose this place, Sylv?” Erik grumbled. The sun beat down, reflecting off the light concrete of Gallopolis’s roads to hit him for a second time. “I’m not cut out for the heat.” 
> 
> “Then take off your bandana, dear. Your poor little nosey will cook in that.” 
> 
> “And be crunching on sand all day? No thank you.” 
> 
> “It’s not windy this time of year,” Veronica said. “It’s like being in a fucking oven, but at least we aren’t picking sand out of our-” 
> 
> “Shoes!” Serena interrupted cheerily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: Brief mention of an animal abuse scare that happened in the past. No animal was harmed. 
> 
> I played the demo for five hours today and I have the worst headache lol

“Why did you choose this place, Sylv?” Erik grumbled. The sun beat down, reflecting off the light concrete of Gallopolis’s roads to hit him for a second time. “I’m not cut out for the heat.” 

“Then take off your bandana, dear. Your poor little nosey will cook in that.” 

“And be crunching on sand all day? No thank you.” 

“It’s not windy this time of year,” Veronica said. “It’s like being in a fucking oven, but at least we aren’t picking sand out of our-” 

“Shoes!” Serena interrupted cheerily. 

“I’m not taking that chance.” Erik fanned himself with his disk, minding the sharp edges. He pouted, the childish expression hidden by the bandana, when a sweaty hand left his. 

< Please, Erik, I don’t want you to be more miserable than you already are, > Eleven signed. < Take it off and cool down? >

There was an unspoken  _ “for me?”  _ somewhere in that phrase. 

“...Yeah, okay.” Erik put his disk away and pulled the bandana off his face. As soon as it was in his pocket, the hand returned to wrap around his fingers. 

“Whipped,” Veronica said. Sylvando suppressed a giggle, and Serena just smiled, looking proud of them. 

The five of them were trailing behind the only three people who actually  _ wanted _ to go speak with the royalty of the palace. Erik supposed that, without having been directly exposed to the utter incompetence of the prince, nobody had a reason to be bothered. But the five  _ had _ been, so they let Jade, Rab, and Hendrik do all the talking as they hovered behind, a reminder of the bullshit the sultan’s son had put them through. 

It was pretty simple, fortunately. Since Gallopolis was so directly affected, they figured they would need to at least exchange pleasantries, being the heroes who were supposed to be taking Calasmos down and all. 

The sultan seemed to only be able to spare a singular fuck to give about the safety of his kingdom, far more concerned about the financial crisis it was in. As they assured him they were still working on a solution (to the dark star, not his idiocy with his budget), he waved them off and mumbled about the treasures he was having to give up to afford the constant horse races. 

As he followed the group out, shooting a spiteful glance toward the prince’s door, Erik felt off balance. There was someone missing at his side. 

“Hey, guys? Has anyone seen El?” 

Everyone stopped in their tracks and started looking this way and that. It was never a good sign when someone disappeared. But Eleven was a little different - he could either be kidnapped by the monster of the week, or he could have floated off to go to the bathroom and didn’t want to bother anyone by poking them to say it. 

“He’s… probably gone to chat with Prince Faris or something. You guys go on ahead, we’ll catch up.” Erik sighed, trying to calm the rising panic. If he still couldn’t find him after likely being subjected to a long-winded conversation with the prince, he’d get the rest of them to help look. 

Erik didn’t have to search far. On his way to the prince’s quarters, a meow drew his attention. He wouldn’t have thought much of it - the palace was full of cats - but a lot of them were clustered in one location. 

Eleven sat against one of the massive pillars. About a dozen cats surrounded him, several squeezed onto his crossed legs or leaned against his hips, with more meowing indignantly at the lack of lap space. He seemed to be at a loss for which to focus on, and was trying to pet all of them at once, moving his hands to scratch a different head every time he heard a meow. 

A kitten crawled its way up Eleven’s tunic onto his shoulders. It rubbed against his head, and he turned and leaned his face into its disproportionately fluffy body. 

Erik covered his mouth with both hands to stop himself from making any stupid noises at the sight. He apparently failed, as Eleven looked up and gave him a big smile. Arms still full of fluff, he pointedly looked at the floor next to him, then back up with a pleading expression. 

Erik, finding it increasingly difficult to say no to Eleven about anything, nudged an orange cat out of the way and sat down as close as he could. As he got settled, the cat he moved decided that any amount of physical contact was permission for cuddling. It flopped down on Erik’s lap with an earthshakingly loud purr. 

“Well, make yourself at home,” he said to it. 

Eleven laughed softly. He was grinning at him, with so much adoration in his eyes Erik thought it might gain a physical force and knock him over. He was so sweet, it wasn’t fair. Especially not fair that his little shoulder demon was blocking the easiest path Erik could take to kiss him. 

“Mia snuck in a cat when she was little,” Erik said, mostly to distract himself. “We tried to take care of her, but we barely had enough food for the two of us.” Erik scratched the cat behind its ears. It flopped into him, purring even louder. “Then the vikings found out.” 

Eleven moved his hands, to several cats’ protest. He looked worried - disproportionately so, for how much Erik had said. He left out a lot of details about them that he’d rather not relive. 

< What happened to her? >

Erik chuckled lightly. “She’s sitting fat and happy at the boss’s side. Practically runs the place. I’m surprised we didn’t see her last time we were there. She was getting old enough, I wonder if she finally beefed it…” 

Eleven winced as he raised his arm, the kitten digging its tiny claws into his shoulder to stay steady. He picked it up and set it on his other shoulder, then wound his arm around Erik’s back. 

“I’m not that torn up about it. It could have been…”  _ so much worse. _ When the vikings found her, Erik thought they would kill her and make Mia watch. 

As if hearing his thoughts, Eleven pulled him closer. Erik smiled as the cats on Eleven’s lap began to protest the pats being halved. 

* * *

So covered in cat hair was Eleven that he had to change clothes. It was just as well - a long sleeved black shirt didn’t suit the climate, and there was only so much complaining from his companions that he could take before he started to worry he really  _ was _ making them sweat more. 

When Eleven told Erik where he was going, Erik suddenly remembered a blade he’d seen in a shop the last time they were there, and shot off to see if it was still for sale. 

On his way out of the inn, Eleven idly glanced over the advertisements posted. There was another horse race coming up that day, he noted. He wondered if he should enter under his own name, and get his own credit this time. He had fun, last time, though the fact that he was being used put a bit of a damper on things. 

Then Eleven saw the grand prize listed, and realized he didn’t have much of a choice in the matter. 

Sure, he already had  _ one _ Sword of Light, but he had been fighting with two swords since the Last Bastion. He needed all the power he could get to beat Calasmos, and since they were on vacation, nobody would think twice about him doing something silly like joining a horse race. The real trouble would lie in getting to the floating battleground, and to the Crucible, but his companions had learned by now to not question his Luminary weirdness too much. He could probably claim having visions or something. 

He would only have to deal with that conversation if he won, anyway. As good as he was with his horse, he hadn’t been able to beat a trained knight turned circus performer, and this race would likely be full of professionals. 

Still, he owed it to the world to  _ try. _

Registration was still running when he got there, though it looked like he was one of the last people to sign up. One of the competitors gave off an intimidating vibe, but other than that, it seemed to be mostly people his age looking to test their skills. He wondered how many of them had to urge their horses into a run from a dragon. WIth the world the way it was lately, it was quite possible that number was greater than zero. 

To Eleven’s relief, he found that the race would end with plenty of time before the evening, so he wouldn’t miss Sylvando’s performance - not that he would have willingly missed it if the schedules did clash. 

He stabled Garyl with the other competitors’ horses. To Garyl’s credit, he acted pretty normal when he wasn’t talking, and he only did that around Eleven so nobody else would believe him. He was across from a creature that looked more monster than horse, so it probably didn’t matter if Garyl started singing the damn Heliodorian anthem, anyway. 

< I don’t have any oats, > he signed apologetically, not caring how strange he must look. 

Garyl snorted, a look in his eye saying,  _ “If you don’t get me some later, I’ll make you regret it.”  _

Eleven smiled, and affectionately petted Garyl’s nose. He got an eye roll in return. 

* * *

The eating was good in Gallopolis, and none so good as Sylvando’s favorite restaurant. He went there every time he had a performance in the city, and this time, though the group he was traveling with had armor rather than feathers, was no different. 

Eleven remembered it from the first time he was there. Sylvando had treated the four of them, and it was the first restaurant he’d been to that wasn’t Mrs. Zircon’s town-wide potluck dinners. 

Eleven made it to meet everyone just as they were about to head in. He probably smelled a bit horsey, but it was far from his worst. 

Erik lingered at the edge of the group, searching through the passersby with his eyes. When he caught sight of Eleven, his expression softened, and the arms folded across his chest dropped. 

“What’ve you been up to?” Erik asked as soon as Eleven was close enough to hear a comfortable volume. 

Eleven began to answer, but then the group was being rushed inside, and he didn’t get the chance to. Their hands quickly found each other, internally citing that the building was dark and crowded, and they didn’t want to get lost. 

Everyone had coffee in front of them before they even sat down. It was a common beverage, part of the experience as Sylvando said. A quick scan of the table yielded no sweeteners, but Erik took a stubborn sip, his grimace invisible to all but those who would look for it. 

If the food in Puerto Valor was spicy, the Gallopolitan cuisine was borderline corrosive. Eleven learned his lesson last time, when he ordered the server’s favorite rather than trying to make sense of the menu. He’d ended up with tears pouring down his face after one bite. 

This time, he tugged Sylvando’s sleeve and asked him what he should get instead. The fact that he had to reach across Erik’s shoulders was completely unrelated. If Erik leaned into the touch a little bit, Eleven wasn’t going to call him out on it. 

He caught the ghost of a genuine smile on Erik’s lips when their fingers laced back together, once the short conversation with Sylvando was finished. 

The group chatted a while, about shopping, and conversations with strangers they had, and the circus events that would be happening that night. They avoided talking about the dark star, as they had for the past week, but being as close as it was, Eleven could tell it was weighing on everyone’s minds. 

“They won’t stay and rehearse during the race,” Sylvando was complaining. “I know it’s a big dealio here, but these kiddies are too inexperienced to put on a show with only  _ half _ a day’s practice!” 

Serena, sitting directly across the table from Eleven, finished up her own conversation with Veronica and Jade, on either side of her. 

“Eleven, you’ve been awfully quiet,” Serena noted. He smirked at her. “You… know what I mean. What have you been up to today? Nobody’s seen you since the palace.” 

Understanding of  _ why _ he hadn’t been conversing with the rest lit her eyes in the way he moved his hands to answer. Either that, or she noticed the suspicious timing of Erik moving his hand out from under the table as well. 

< I was getting Garyl ready for the race this afternoon. >

“The race?” Veronica jumped in. Conversation around the table paused. 

< I wanted to enter under my own name, > Eleven signed, squirming under all the eyes suddenly turned to him. < And without Sylv competing I actually have a shot at winning. >

Sylvando looked flattered. “Oh, all right, you’ve convinced me. I’m coming to cheer you on!” 

Eleven was somewhat surprised by that. He supposed Sylvando would have plenty of time for one last dress rehearsal afterward, though. 

“Agh, I’m going to burn,” Erik said. “Should I swallow my pride and get an umbrella or something?” 

Veronica snickered. “You probably should. We don’t want the hair dye bleached right off your head. It would totally ruin the illusion.” 

Eleven frowned. < His hair isn’t dyed. >

Even if he hadn’t seen Erik and Mia as children via the root, he would have at least smelled it all over their room. Gemma went through a phase during her mid teens where she was changing her hair color every other week, and every time she got a little too close a little too soon after a change, he could have sworn it caught fire to his nose. 

“And how do  _ you _ know that?” Veronica demanded. “What, does the carpet match the drapes?” 

Erik inhaled the soup he’d just tried to swallow and started coughing. Eleven placed a concerned hand on his shoulder before tilting his head at Veronica, curious as to what she meant. Rab snickered on the other side of him.

“No, look Veronica,” Serena cut in, “his eyelashes are blue, see?” 

“He could be using mascara,” Veronica suggested. 

“Every  _ day?” _ Sylvando said. “Even in battle? Even I don’t wear make-up that much. Hmm…” He lifted Erik’s arm over his head. 

“Well, damn,” Veronica said, leaning back in her chair, “not even  _ you _ would dye your pit hair. But that’s so weird. Other than Mia, I’ve never seen- wait. Hendrik?” 

Hendrik looked to her from his spot on the other side of Jade. “Yes, Veronica?” 

“Is that your natural hair color?” 

“It is.” 

“But it’s  _ purple! _ Is that a Zwaardsrust thing? Erik, were your parents from there?” 

“You know I don’t know that,” Erik huffed, pulling his arm out of Sylvadno’s grasp. “But I guess it’s as good a guess as any.” 

* * *

Erik wasn’t sure if people other than the competitors were allowed in, but nobody stopped him from slipping into the stables. He supposed he could just go sit with everyone else and wish Eleven luck as he rode past, but then he wouldn’t be able to hug him properly, and that would be a damn shame. He wasn’t the only person seeing a rider off, either; family, friends, and romantic partners alike wove through the hallway, or sat in makeshift chairs in the corners. 

Eleven was already looking at the stall door as Erik walked in, relieved he had found the right one. When their eyes met, Eleven’s smile lit up the whole building, even beyond the high walls that blocked their view of the rest of the stable. As Erik made his way over to him, Eleven set his brush aside. Then Erik was there, and Eleven was gathering him up in his arms. 

Erik grinned into Eleven’s hair. “Miss me?” he teased, secretly relieved he wasn’t the only one. He felt a nod. 

The smell of horses was strong, here, alongside the burning smell of a dimensional door opening. 

“Have you been hugging Garyl again?” 

Eleven leaned back just enough to give him a sheepish smile. 

“Dork,” Erik mumbled fondly. He could have sworn the horse gave him the stink eye. 

Too soon, Eleven pulled away. < Sorry, I have to- > he gestured to Garyl, then got back to brushing him. 

Erik hovered out of the way, not sure if he should offer to help or just leave already. He noticed that Eleven kept having to brush his hair out of his face. 

“Where’s your hair tie?” 

Eleven tucked the brush under his arm. He put his fists next to each other, palms down, and mimed snapping something between them. 

“All of them?” A nod. “Damn, why didn’t you get new ones?” 

< They’re too expensive here. Not durable enough, either. >

“All right, well,” Erik patted his pockets, trying to think of something that might help. He found a blob of fabric. The bandana. “Do you think this would work?” 

Eleven nodded, and held out his hand. 

“May I?” 

Eleven nodded again, dropping his hand as a light blush bloomed on his cheeks. 

Erik folded the crumpled-up cloth as neatly as possible without looking like an idiot about it, then laid it over Eleven’s head. He was more meticulous than he needed to be, making sure it was perfectly even before pulling the ends under Eleven’s hair. 

Erik reached around his neck to tie it, carefully, so he didn’t get any strands of hair caught in it. They were so close, sharing in each other’s breath. They had been this close before, but the simple act of tying Eleven’s hair back for him felt unusually intimate. 

Erik was grateful for the stall’s high walls. He knew he was too okay with PDA for others’ tastes, and he wasn’t sure what Eleven was comfortable with, yet. 

Erik had to force himself away soon after. Eleven was due to go on soon, and he couldn’t keep distracting him. 

He was able to find his group easily. With the bright colors and loud personalities, they stood out in a crowd. Erik was just glad they weren’t on the run anymore, or they would have been caught a dozen times over. 

They were seated a bit behind the starting line. Hendrik, in the aisle seat, stood and gestured Erik in next to Sylvando. They were the tallest two, and Erik wondered if the shadows they would cast was the reason he was between them. 

“Did you remember your sunblock, Erik?” Sylvando asked, passing him a water bottle. 

Erk nodded. Sylvando’s mothering used to grate on him, but now it just felt nice to have people looking out for him. 

Not long after everyone was settled in their seats, a voice projection spell was used to amplify the sultan’s voice. The riders flowed out of the stables as he announced each of them. 

“That bandana,” Hendrik said. “Is it yours?” 

“Yeah, all his hair ties broke.” 

Hendrik hummed. “You know, I participated in many jousting matches across Erdrea. Many of my fellow competitors received handkerchiefs from nobles for good luck. It often had… romantic connotations.” 

In the row down, Jade chuckled. 

Erik felt his face grow hot. “I…” He looked the other way. Sylvando was biting down on his hand to keep himself from laughing out loud. He wasn’t doing a great job of concealing his amusement. 

“Hendrik, did you-” Erik was cut off from his question by a tap on his knee. Serena, looking up at him from her spot next to Jade, pointed down to the track. Eleven was waiting at the foot on the stands on Garyl. 

“I apologize if I made you uncomfortable,” Hendrik said as the group made their way down. “It’s good that the two of you are such good friends. We could use more youth who can trust each other to not put knives in each other’s backs, these days.” 

Erik caught a look at Veronica. She was looking out in the distance, as if she were in an office and a silent observer was privy to her expressions. 

“Y-Yeah, thanks,” Erik muttered. 

Everyone took turns wishing Eleven luck. He was close enough to the railing that nobody had to reach far to clasp him on the shoulder or pat him on the back, save Veronica. She claimed she wasn’t much of a physical person, though Erik had seen the way she fawned over him when he got hurt in the Sn ærfelt, and knew that to be a lie. Even still, her height was a bit of a sore spot for her, and Erik didn’t want to get singed for bringing it up today. 

It happened that Erik went last. More sensitive to pickpockets than anyone else, he tended to bring up the rear when he wasn’t glued to Eleven’s side. 

Somehow, part of Eleven’s bandana had flipped up in the time between Erik leaving and now. He flicked it down with a playful smirk before catching Eleven’s expression. Eleven looked nervous about something. He seemed confident earlier, so this was worrisome. 

“El? You good?” 

Eleven nodded, looking even less calm. < You’re free to tell me no, > he signed, gestures unusually clumsy. 

Erik frowned. “For what?” 

Eleven swallowed, then pointed toward his lips. < For good luck? >

Erik blinked, processing, heart rate picking up as he absorbed what he was being asked. He glanced at the crowd. In the past, D-  _ someone _ \- had hated public displays of affection and got antsy over Erik leaning on him in the pub when he got a little too drunk. So this - wanting to be kissed where everyone could see it - came as a shock to Erik. 

Eleven was starting to look downtrodden. < It’s fine- > he started. 

Erik hopped up to sit on the railing. He held to it with one hand, so tight his knuckles turned white. With the other, he reached for his partner. 

Eleven caught his hand, looking a bit dazed, and brought it up to his cheek. He leaned closer, fumbling for Erik’s shoulder to keep his balance. 

Their lips met, and Erik could focus on nobody else. The noise of the crowd faded out. Nothing existed but the man in front of him. 

Despite surely struggling to even stay on the horse, Eleven still managed to make Erik melt. He kissed like he was trying to give Erik all the softness that he never had, like he was afraid Erik would shatter if he kissed him wrong. 

Even as they separated, and Eleven rode off to the start line sending a sweet smile over his shoulder, Erik had trouble coming back to reality. 

He wondered if it was too early to tell Eleven he loved him. 

* * *

Jade gave Eleven a thump on the back and a simple  _ “good luck.”  _ She slipped past Erik, making toward her seat, shooting one last glance over her shoulder. Eleven looked… nervous? 

Wondering if something happened between them, she paid careful attention to Eleven’s body language, though respected their privacy enough to avoid watching his hands. He pointed to his lips, and Erik blushed so bright so fast it couldn’t have been caused by the sun. 

Jade pondered what happened as Erik’s gaze ran over the crowd, the light in Eleven’s eyes dimming with each second he took to answer whatever was said. Erik finally noticed Eleven’s expression and squared his shoulders. 

Then he hopped up on the railing and  _ kissed him. _

Jade’s jaw dropped. 

Eleven looked overjoyed as Erik pulled back. Erik looked like he was  _ melting. _

The ready bell rang, and Eleven steered over to his starting spot. Erik leaned his arms on the railing with a sigh, practically swooning. 

Judging by the sputtering from Hendrik, the raucous laughter from Rab, and the whooping and whistling coming from Sylvando, Veronica, and even  _ Serena, _ she figured it mustn’t have been long that they’ve been together. Or, at the very least, public about it. 

She wondered if she should have a  _ talk _ with Erik. If she even had the right to do so, having been gone for eighteen years of her little brother’s life. 

Looking at Erik’s dopey expression, completely unaware of the commotion around him with all his attention on one person, she realized she didn’t need to. 

* * *

Erik shouted himself horse - sorry,  _ hoarse _ \- during the race. 

He wasn’t usually one to care about this kind of thing, had barely even watched when Eleven raced under the prince’s name. But this time was different. 

It was just a silly thing - whether or not he did well had no effect on the fate of the world. And yet, Erik cared far more this time. Cared for Eleven far more this time. Another year spent with him elevated it from a protectiveness based in a need to save his sister, to something so intense he wondered how he had gone so long carrying it alone. 

Erik wanted to see him succeed. Wanted to see that rare grin, so bright the oppressive aura of the dark star would recede in his light. 

_ Holy shit, that’s enough, stop it, brain. _

Most of the competitors were just rich tourists looking for their five minutes of fame. Eleven ended up lapping a few of them. 

But there was one who really gave him trouble. A monster of a man on a horse that might have outsized some dragons thundered around the track, staying just ahead of Eleven for most of the race. He kept it clean, but Erik worried that Eleven and Garyl would get run over if they pulled in front of him at the wrong time. 

On the last lap, Erik could see them approaching the bend. The giants were far ahead. Though they were gaining ground, it looked like Garyl was wearing out. 

They couldn’t catch up in time. 

But then a miracle happened. They hit the turn, and the giants slowed considerably, their size making it difficult to cut the turn close. The gap between the giants and the wall grew. 

Eleven leaned forward, and Erik thought he saw him pull his legs onto the top of the saddle. With a sudden burst of speed, Eleven and Garyl shot through the gap like water rushing through a pipe. Garyl must have cleared the gap by no more than an inch on either side. 

The crowd’s roar was deafening. Its volume kept up along with the horse’s speed, all the way through the finish line and beyond. 

Belatedly, Erik realized that he had jumped up and started yelling, too, along with the rest of his companions. The combined noise from the seven of them rivaled that of the entire crowd. 

* * *

Eleven searched the crowd that swarmed him after the awards ceremony. Strangers and fellow competitors alike were coming up to congratulate him, but there were really only seven people he wanted to see. 

He saw a shock of blue through the crowds, and not for the first time found himself wishing he could shout to get someone’s attention. But then Erik noticed him, and they both began fighting through the crowds to get back to each other. 

Eventually the people blocking their path realized what he was trying to do and moved out of their way. Erik ran the last few feet to get to him, and Eleven had barely enough time to brace for impact before he had a fluffy blue cannonball flying into his arms. 

The moment Erik’s feet were back on the ground, he was pulling Eleven down by the collar. 

Whoops and whistles came from the crowd all around them as Erik planted a messy kiss against his mouth, grinning too wide to make it an objectively good one. Eleven couldn’t bring himself to be bothered. 

He wondered if it was too early to tell Erik he loved him. 

The sudden thought didn’t shock him. He’d known for far longer than he cared to admit that he felt that way. But the idea that he might be able to  _ tell _ him one day, that Erik might say it  _ back…  _

Eleven tightened his arms around Erik’s waist as the emotions overwhelmed him. He felt, rather than heard, Erik hum softly, coaxed into kissing him properly. 

“You couldn’t have even waited until you weren’t in front of everyone and their fucking dog?” said a frustrated, childish voice, bringing them out of their trance. “Come on, everyone’s trying to find you.” 

Veronica started shoving them through the crowd, letting them make the decision whether to disentangle themselves or get pushed to the ground by what appeared to be a little kid. They managed to get facing in the direction she wanted to go, with only a little bit of tripping over each other’s feet. 

One of the people in the crowd let out a hearty laugh. “Your daughter’s a real firecracker, you know that?” 

All three of them started fumbling out denials, but the person was already gone. 

“What kind of… moron,” Veronica said. “I don’t look young enough to have two people barely scraping adulthood as my parents, do I?” 

They both shook their heads, not wanting to face her wrath, and certainly not wanting to face the idea of parenting children  _ together. _

“Oh, there you are, darlings!” a familiar voice rang out. “She found them!” 

The rest of the group followed Sylvando through the now dissipating crowd. 

Sylvando wrapped Eleven up in a deceptively  _ strong _ hug, and Eleven hoped the noise from the crowd covered up his startled squeak as his feet left the ground. 

“Oh, you were  _ wonderful _ out there! Who knew you had those moves in you, little acrobat?” 

“Sylv, I think he’s turning blue,” Erik noted. 

“Oh, pish, go back to hogging him.” 

Eleven took in huge gulps of air when he was set back to his feet. Erik’s hand brushed his shoulder, a bit more worry in his eyes than he let on. 

Hendrik coughed awkwardly. “I imagine congratulations are in order?” 

“I imagine so, considering he just kicked ass,” Erik scoffed. 

Hendrik patted his hands together, shifting in place. “I meant-” 

< I know what you mean, Hendrik, > Eleven signed, grinning. He wrapped an arm around Erik’s shoulders. < Thank you. >

He kissed the beginnings of a blush on Erik’s cheeks and watched with joy as it spread like wildfire across his face. 

They all took turns hugging him or patting him on the back. Erik wriggled out of his arms, always just a little bit uncomfortable so close to so many people. 

Even Veronica didn’t fuss too much when he knelt to the ground to hug her back properly. Veronica hugs were rare, after all, and there was a time when he thought they were over permanently. 

Laughter came from all directions, even some lingering strangers, when Jade pulled off his bandana and yanked his head down to ruffle his hair. She then hugged him like a normal person, murmuring a congratulations before shoving the bandana into his hands. 

As the group quieted down, a booming voice interrupted their chattering. 

"Ah, there y' are, I been meanin' to talk wit' ye."

The crowd parted before the mountain of a runner-up. Eleven’s companions appeared to part as well, but from where he was standing, it looked more like a defensive line in the face of the imposing figure. He still wore his helmet from the race. 

“Who are you, anyway?” Erik asked. His tone was polite and conversational, though Eleven knew beefy strangers made him nervous. 

The man paused. “Ah,” he said, sounding almost sheepish, and removed his helmet. 

To reveal another, smaller, pink helmet.

“Dave!” Sylvando ran over to hug his husband. “I knew I recognized that booty! What are you doing so far inland, sweetie?” He gave a theatrical gasp. “Don’t tell me our ship ran away!” 

“Is Mia with you?” Erik asked. 

"Naw, she's crashed in the inn. Stayed up all night…" Dave paused. "I don' actually kin what she was doin'."

Erik cringed. “Great.” 

“Ugh, could we go without PDA for five minutes?” Veronica grumbled. “I’m going shopping. See you all tonight.” 

* * *

As the celebration came to a close, and most of their companions headed back out into the city, Eleven made his way to where the winner’s prize was being guarded, with Erik trailing after him. 

“What are you even going to do with that?” Erik asked as Eleven hefted the hammer off its stand. 

Eleven shot him a smile as he unclasped the straps of his pack. He opened it and set it on the ground. After positioning it over the opening, he simply let it drop. It fell to where the bottom of the pack should be, then kept falling until the handle disappeared entirely.

“Show-off,” Erik grumbled. “How much stuff do you even have in there?” 

Eleven paused in closing the bag. < Too much, probably. Technically, stuff I forget I have can’t ever be retrieved. >

“Guess it helps you have a photographic memory then?” 

Eleven raised an eyebrow at him, hands busy reattaching the bag to his belt. It wasn’t something he boasted on, even before the fields of human corpses were forever burned into his mind’s eye. 

"What? I notice stuff." 

< You really do. > The bag, not properly secured, fell off his belt. He stared at it as if it personally insulted his mother. 

“Here, let me,” Erik said, grabbing it off the ground. “The way you’ve been tying it makes me want to steal it off you just to make a point.” 

He started adjusting the straps at Eleven’s waist, but Eleven wasn’t paying attention. Erik’s easy confidence as his hands moved, the belt occasionally tugging on Eleven’s hips as he tied it, was intoxicating. He decided to just stare at him instead. 

“If you tie it like this,” Erik said, “you make it a hell of a lot harder to snatch.” 

Erik looked up to see Eleven’s smirk. “What?” 

< Snatched a lot of purses, have you? > Eleven teased. 

A pretty blush bloomed on Erik’s cheeks. “Wh- I- That’s behind me. Besides, I haven’t stolen anything from  _ you, _ now have I?” 

Eleven pretended to ponder it for a moment. < Well, there was one thing… >

A look of guilt washed over Erik’s face so fast Eleven wondered if he actually  _ had _ stolen something from him.  _ Ah. _ His coin purse had felt noticeably lighter when Erik got it back to him in the dungeons, but the morning he woke up after Cobblestone was destroyed, blinking against the tear tracks on his cheeks, it might have gone back to its old weight. 

< Don’t hurt yourself, > Eleven signed. < I was trying to flirt with you. >

He tapped his chest a couple of times, and Erik’s blush darkened. Eleven wasn’t sure if it was embarrassed because he had misunderstood, or the ridiculousness of the pick-up line. 

“You’re going to kill me,” Erik groaned. 

* * *

It wasn’t as if Erik and Eleven hadn’t been inseparable before their relationship was a romantic one, so when they went out of their way to sit next to each other, they took the endless teasing with smiles. The group had gone to get props while Sylvando got back to last-minute practicing, and the nine of them (with Dave and Mia included) ended up just a bit too late to find seats all together.

Erik made his way back to his seat with a bucket of popcorn big enough to feed an entire army. Or… one Mia, probably. He just hoped he and Eleven could have a taste before Mia scarfed it. 

Mia would have picked at least one pocket in the thick crowds, and Eleven got nervous when he didn’t have full range of motion. He still felt a bit uneasy about leaving the two of them alone together. Erik cared deeply for his sister, but he knew she could be…  _ difficult.  _ She was always the type to say something nasty and mean something completely different. 

As he approached, he saw that the two of them were talking. They were both smiling, so Erik assumed it was a good thing. He shouldn’t have worried so much about whether or not they would get along. Eleven had a way with difficult people. So agreeable was he that even enemies aiming crossbows might eventually turn around and swear their lives to him. 

Conversation halted as he sat down, and both of them were on him like hungry sabre cubs. Eleven, because he was hugging Erik like he hadn’t seen him in forever. Mia, because she was shoveling popcorn in her mouth like she hadn’t  _ eaten _ in forever. 

“Sheesh,” Erik said as he helplessly watched half the popcorn disappear within seconds. 

“Thanks, ‘Leven, I owe ya one,” Mia said with her mouth full. 

Erik gave Eleven a look of mock betrayal, which melted right off his face as Eleven stared back, like he’d rather never look away. 

“Sweet baby Erdwin, I forgive you, holy shit,” Erik grumbled. 

Sylvando barely made it to the stage before his own personal cheering section was making a scene. The part of the group that was most clumped together - Rab, Jade, Hendrik, and Dave - held up a big banner and yelled at the top of their lungs. Even Eleven, normally pretty withdrawn at stuff like this, was clapping as loudly as he could. Erik half wondered if he was using lightning to amplify the sound, which he could somehow still hear over their friends' ruckus. 

They were partially trying to embarrass Sylvando, but he soaked it up with a wide grin.

Sylvando and the troupe that joined him today moved with a practiced ease that, if Erik hadn’t known they had only been practicing since the morning, he would have been convinced they had been working on it for months. 

The more Erik thought about it, the more he realized he’d spent the whole time in Gallopolis scowling for one reason or another, before. He’d missed out on some pretty amazing moments. Namely, Sylvando’s performance. He had no idea what his shows were like with years of practice still fresh on the mind, but if only a day’s worth of rehearsing looked like this, he couldn’t imagine. 

Erik had expected Mia to scoff and pretend she was bored. Instead, she watched, awestruck, the popcorn steadily making its way to her mouth while she refused to look away. While Sylvando was able to cast true illusion magic, she seemed particularly interested in the illusions done by sleight of hand. Erik began making a point of differentiating the two, to the best of his ability, and Mia huffed and claimed she wasn’t a child as she listened closely. 

Eleven’s expression was pinched. He seemed bothered by something. It was a bit loud in the circus tent, and Eleven was never one for too much noise, so that was probably why. Either that, or he needed to pee and didn’t want to miss the show. 

At the end of the show, Sylvando “conjured” a red rose and handed it to Dave, who swooned with a grace rare for a man of his size and stature. 

* * *

To lose time was to lose much. 

Seeing Sylvando on stage doing what he loved was a bittersweet feeling for Eleven. It made him miss the Soldiers of Smile. Though the cause of them banding together was a dark one, they had so much joy in what they did. Traveling the world, fighting monsters, being the light the world was missing when Eleven sunk beneath the waves. 

They faced the extinction of humanity, and they danced. 

In this timeline, the monster in the mural took that joy and used it for evil. He forced them to dance until their legs gave out, for the glory of Calasmos. 

The Soldiers of Smile would likely never dance again. The monster was vanquished, but Eleven would carry that fury right up to Calasmos’s doorstep. 

* * *

The group originally wanted to give Eleven and Erik a room to themselves, now that they all knew the two were involved. But the prices shot up surrounding the races and circus, and Hendrik fussed about funds until they agreed to compact. The two ended up rooming with their sisters for the night. 

Erik sat on one of the beds with a towel laying across his hair. The sun hadn’t been down for all that long, so it was still a bit too hot for his comfort. He wanted to keep his hair damp for as long as possible, but not soak the bed in the meantime. He examined his dagger for new signs of wear, more a before-bed habit than a worry it had somehow dented staying on his belt all day. 

Jade was sprawled across the other bed reading a book. She wore some fancy-ass silk pajamas someone in Heliodor had gifted her on the night of the banquet. Erik still didn’t know how she kept them so pristine on the hard road. 

Mia walked in with a smirking face and bulging pockets. 

“Do I want to know?” Erik sighed. 

“What, when did you turn into a goody-goody?” Mia emptied her pockets into her backpack without letting him see the contents. “How are we sleeping, anyway? Siblings sharing?” 

Erik scrambled for an answer. Just because he and Eleven had kissed in front of the goddess and everyone didn’t mean he was ready for her teasing. “What, and deal with your kicking? Share with Jade, she’s sturdier than I am.” 

Eleven chose that moment to walk in. Erik tried to not let himself be distracted by his dripping hair.  _ “Trust in the Luminary” to make wet hair somehow look appealing. _

Mia scoffed. “You kick more than I do, last I checked. Or did you finally grow out of that?” 

< He does kick, > Eleven signed. < I have bruises. >

“Hey-” 

Jade guffawed. “Ahem. Sorry. Are you uncomfortable sharing with me, Mia?” 

“No? I just figured- okay, why is everyone acting like they know something I don’t?” 

< What’s going on? > Eleven signed. He sat down next to Erik, not leaving room for a single leaf from Yggdrassil’s mighty branches between them. He dropped a kiss on Erik’s fast-warming cheek, hair leaving a wet smudge on Erik’s neck. 

_ “Oh,” _ Mia said. “I… knew you were together. I was just- testing you. To see if you’d tell me. Heh.” 

Eleven nodded along. < She did. Already threatened me if I didn’t look out for you and everything. >

“What?!” Erik squawked. “When?” 

“You told her?” Jade asked, then gave Erik a look. 

< I didn’t say anything, she figured out I liked him, > Eleven answered Jade. Then to Erik, < In Sniflheim. She came to talk to me on the boat after she woke up, a few hours before you came to bed. >

“I’m such a fool,” Jade sighed. “It took Erik’s jealousy over Vince to make me realize the nature of their relationship, and we’ve been traveling together for months.” 

Erik groaned into his hands. “You had to tell him about that?” 

He felt a tap on his shoulder and looked up. < Aww, sweetheart, you had a crush on me? > Eleven signed, looking more joyful than teasing. 

“We’re courting.” Erik tried to ignore the several flips his heart decided to take at the nickname. 

Eleven laughed softly, and kissed him on the cheek again. 

“How long have you-” Jade started, “if you don’t mind my asking.” 

“Cobblestone,” Erik said simply. “Couple days ago?”

< You’re not a fool, Jade, Mia’s just observant. > Eleven smiled at Erik. < Runs in the family. >

Mia sat on the bed next to Jade with a huff. “Obviously  _ not _ if it took him so long to ask you out.” 

Erik cringed, not wanting to tell her he hadn’t even done the asking. 

As if reading Erik’s thoughts, Eleven bumped their shoulders together, not correcting her. < I like to think it’s different when it’s aimed at you, especially when you’re afraid that being wrong might cost you your friendship. I thought Gemma was going to throw me from the falls when I told her I didn’t think he liked me back. >

“So that’s why you were gone so long,” Erik realized. Eleven gave a shy smile and nodded. “I kinda thought- uh, never mind.” 

“Uh,” Mia cut in, “who’s ‘bandana’?” 

< G-E-M-M-A, > Eleven fingerspelled. < Sorry, I forgot you don’t know her. We grew up together. >

“Oh.” Mia sneered at her brother. “Were you jealous?” 

“Shut… shut up, the way his mom was going on she seemed to think the two of them were already married.” Erik saw movement out of the corner of his eye. “Oh, say that again?” 

< Is that why you asked me if I was seeing her? > Eleven repeated. 

“That didn’t give me away, did it?” 

< Oh, it absolutely did. > Eleven smiled and brushed a kiss to Erik’s nose before continuing. < I’m glad, though. I was scared out of my mind until you said that. >

Erik cupped Eleven’s cheek and brushed his lower lip with his thumb. “Well I-” 

“Holy shit,” Mia interrupted, “do we need to leave you two alone?” 

“Yeah, shoo fly,” Erik said reflexively. The lips under his thumb parted, and Eleven’s eyes bugged out. He quickly pulled his hand away. “Uh, I mean-!” 

“Oh,” Jade said cheerfully, “I just remembered, I need to brush my teeth. Mia, would you like me to wash your hair? I have a scented shampoo you might like.” 

Mia followed her into the washroom snickering. 

Erik stared at the door long after it shut, mouth dry. 

* * *

While Erik stared at the door, Eleven stared at Erik. The contact with his lips, even long gone, still burned. It made him want to kiss him. Desperately. 

“Hah, they’re probably thinkin’ we’re making out or something,” Erik finally said. He scratched the back of his head, which gave Eleven pause. He only did that when he was embarrassed about something. 

“Does that bother you?” Eleven whispered. He couldn’t quite keep the  _ want _ out of his voice. 

“I… it doesn’t bother you?” Erik sounded uncharacteristically shy. 

Eleven shook his head. He was a bit embarrassed to admit it, but it was best to be honest. 

“Should it?” he whispered. 

Erik took a long time to respond, studying Eleven’s face with an expression he couldn’t place. 

“No,” Erik said, almost decisively. “It shouldn’t.” 

Eleven linked their hands together and leaned his head on Erik’s shoulder. He couldn’t get it out of his head, now that it was brought up. He watched Erik’s throat bob as he swallowed, and had to sit back up. Was it…  _ normal, _ that he wanted to bite him? 

“You okay?” Erik asked. 

Eleven nodded, not quite ready to look him in the eye. 

“El?” 

“Hm?” 

“I can’t… read your thoughts, man, you’re gonna have to,” Erik pulled his hand free and tucked Eleven’s hair behind his ear, “gonna have to tell me what's wrong.” 

As the hand left Eleven’s face, he took it back into his own. “I never really…” He trailed off, and absentmindedly noted the way Erik’s eyes tracked as he licked his lips before continuing. “I’m new at all of this.” 

“I know,” Erik murmured, cupping his cheek with the other hand. “Take all the time you need. With everything. There’s no rush to-” His eyes widened in some kind of recognition. “Oh, you… want… to?” 

Eleven’s breath hitched, and he quickly broke eye contact to stare at his lap. The room felt too hot, all of a sudden, or maybe that was just his burning face. 

“I wouldn’t know what… to do?” he whispered, barely audible. 

“Just,” Erik said, running his fingertips along Eleven’s lips. He seemed to have figured out he had a weakness to that. “Just do what feels right, y’know? ‘S not like I’m an expert.” 

Eleven hummed, curling his lips into a kiss on Erik’s fingers. 

“Okay?” Erik trailed his hand from Eleven’s mouth, along his cheek, into his hair. 

Eleven nodded, mouthing an  _ “Okay.” _

And then their lips met. And again. And again. 

Eleven followed Erik’s lead. Just as he always did when he was out of his depths. 

Eleven had expected Erik to kiss like he fought - with passion, dexterously targeting chinks in the armor until he had completely overwhelmed him. But it wasn’t like that at all. Despite having more experience, Erik seemed nervous; he went slow, making sure Eleven was comfortable with every new step. He’d break the kiss to tell Eleven what he liked, and what he didn’t, and made sure Eleven would do the same. 

Jade and Mia didn’t return until they were losing consciousness in each other’s arms, bruised lips tingling. 

* * *

Erik woke to the sound of rustling. He glanced over his shoulder, careful not to move Eleven as he did so. It wasn’t easy; Eleven was a cuddler, even before they were cuddling on purpose. Not that Erik ever complained about catching him fused to his back, shivering in whatever slightly-chilly climate they found themselves in. 

The sound was Jade, rummaging through her bag. Mia was nowhere to be seen, which, while alarming, wasn’t unexpected. 

What  _ was _ unexpected was how late he was waking up. Usually out of bed and packed before anyone else’s eyes were open, save, possibly, for Hendrik, Erik was surprised to see Jade, one of the late risers, up before him. Maybe Mia’s leaving woke her. 

He wasn’t going to think too hard on it now. He and Eleven would have the room to themselves, so nobody could make fun of him for lying awake for hours just to listen to his partner’s steady breathing. 

Erik worried that was creepy, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop. There was something relaxing about the whole “Eleven being alive” thing that he couldn’t really explain. 

The heavy door thud shut as Jade left. Eleven stirred at the sound, but didn’t wake. Nuzzling into Erik’s chest, he stretched the arm he had around his waist and pulled him closer. Erik felt like a teddy bear, but he certainly didn’t mind it. 

Eleven’s hair, which by all logic should be a tangled mess with the way he slept, fell in a perfect frame around his face.  _ Like usual. _ Erik gently ran a hand through it. Its texture was rougher than it looked, largely due to the way conditioner absolutely baffled Eleven. 

Eleven let out an upset grunt. Erik carefully untangled his fingers from his hair, worried he had pulled it or something. Eleven took a deep breath, huffed, and grunted again, more insistently. 

“Hey, hey,” Erik fretted. “What’s wrong, angel?” 

“I was,” Eleven mumbled, “tryin’ to figure out ‘ow the onion thing worked.” 

Erik blinked. “The… what?” 

Nothing. Eleven went back to breathing steady, fully asleep. 

For a few seconds, Erik had to just absorb what happened. And then his whole body was trembling in effort to not burst out laughing. 

He just  _ talked. _ In his  _ sleep. _ It was utter nonsense, and it was the  _ cutest thing Erik had ever heard. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Thanks for making it down here! 
> 
> I just wanted to let y'all know that there will not be a chapter uploaded next week, and the schedule will likely be a little wonky from here on out. I'm at the end of stuff I had backlogged, and I haven't even started the first edit of chapter 7. Also I just... really need to clean my apartment, haha. I'll try to at least have one up every two weeks, but, especially in the case of chapter 10, which takes place after the end of a game I have not actually finished, it may not be possible. 
> 
> Thank you all for your patience!


	7. Phnom Nohn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Serena breathed in the blissfully temperate air of Phnom Nohn. She wouldn’t let anyone hear her complain, but she had entirely enough of extreme temperatures for a while. 
> 
> Everyone wondered at why she would choose the commercial nightmare that was the bustling little town. She suspected they continued to wonder after she’d told them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise Bitch I Bet You Thought You Saw The Last Of Me 
> 
> I think the only warning I've got for this chapter is that _I earned the M rating this go around,_ so tread lightly, those sensitive to suggestive topics. I will not include anything explicit in the main body of this story, and anything of that nature will be separated out into series works. However, I don't really tiptoe around the subject. 
> 
> Thank you all very much for sticking around so long! Hopefully it won't be nearly nine goddamn months until the next one, haha.

Serena breathed in the blissfully temperate air of Phnom Nohn. She wouldn’t let anyone hear her complain, but she had entirely enough of extreme temperatures for a while. 

Everyone wondered at why she would choose the commercial nightmare that was the bustling little town. She suspected they continued to wonder after she’d told them. 

Dancing days and nights before they’d arrived hadn’t seemed to leave too much of a toll on the residents of the town, but they’d left so quickly after. She continued to worry, though she’d never have brought it up when they had more urgent things to handle. It was her duty as a healer to set things right, especially since there would have been far less damage done had they all arrived with but a little more haste. 

She was able to sleep with the thought that all had been tended to, but it wouldn’t be the first time there were injuries only she could treat. She’d spent her life studying to perfect the magic Serenica had passed down to her. 

Considering the culture, it was quite possible those with no money for treatment would be left to live in pain. 

* * *

Before the town came into view, Eleven heard the familiar music. Laughter could be heard through the trees. His eyes misted, his hand unconsciously squeezing Erik’s. He felt a squeeze back. Erik was looking at him, concern evident in his expression. 

Eleven gave him a weak smile, and shook his head. He knew Erik wouldn’t press, not anymore. There was a lot of dodging that he did after he woke up that day in Arboria, and he still felt shame toward the way he’d snapped at the questions. The look of pain in Erik’s eyes haunted him. He respected Eleven’s privacy, though with just as much difficulty as Eleven had when Erik was hurting in Sniflheim. 

He didn’t want to keep secrets from Erik. From any of them. But how could he begin to explain  _ now _ what this music meant to him, much less all of it? 

The sight was better than anything Eleven dared hope. The whole town was dancing, expressions not crumpled in fear, but glowing, each and every one of them. Vendors called from the edges of the crowds, selling food and drinks and sparkling fans. Most of them bounced along to the music. It wasn’t to stand out, either; it was simply that infectious. 

The music grew steadily louder, and the crowd parted before them. A group of familiar faces, young and old alike in familiar outfits, marched into the center of town. 

They fell into their places with ease and spun a sea of color and music. Before, they had danced clumsily, exhausted and hesitant. They were embarrassed by the outfits the monster had put them in. Now, they danced willingly, and wore their feathers with pride. 

Eleven felt tears begin to fall, and hoped his companions were too distracted by the parade to notice. He avoided Erik’s gaze, knowing he’d already been caught by him. 

Sylvando had brightened so much he rivaled the sun. Eleven found himself once more struck by the silly hope that people were remembering, that remnants of the old timeline still lingered in the corners of everyone’s memories. He quickly put the thought to the side. This show was right up Sylvando’s alley. 

Hendrik looked confused. Wrestling with deja vu, Eleven wanted to think, but that was probably just his face. 

Jade bounced almost imperceptibly in place. She looked like she wanted to join in almost as badly as Sylvando did. It didn’t seem her style; far different from the dance she’d helplessly tried to teach Eleven, trying to turn him into a good ballroom partner as Serena giggled behind her harp. 

Veronica seemed calm, like she did when she was watching any performance. She wasn’t the type to get excited about  _ anything _ unless she saw a child catch someone’s beard on fire. But she could enjoy a good show. It used to freak Eleven out, a little kid in a circus sporting such a neutral expression. It made him happy to see it again, now. 

Serena looked more relieved than anything. She’d planned on spending the day healing torn muscles, despite being on holiday and needing to relax. Trust her to take one of her rare breaks and use it to help other people. Considering how she always managed to overexert herself doing this kind of thing, Eleven and Rab had secretly planned to help if the need arose. He was relieved for all their sakes that it wasn’t the case. 

Rab was… not looking at the parade at all. Eleven followed his gaze. A gaggle of young folk wearing varying outfits and bunny ears to match danced at the sidelines. They weren’t dancing provocatively, nor standing out that much on their own, so why- 

Then he noticed a red haired woman with a sketchpad on a bench nearby. The group kept throwing winning smiles toward her.  _ Holy shit, Ruby?! _

The hand in his disappeared for a moment, startling Eleven into the present, Erik winding his arm around Eleven’s waist. Eleven quickly threw his arm around Erik’s shoulders, only narrowly avoiding touching somewhere inappropriate. Erik stared, looking desperate for any explanation for Eleven’s strong reaction. 

Eleven smiled and pointedly took a deep breath in and out. Even without a cognitive answer, Erik would be able to read that he was relieved. Maybe it wasn’t like him to get emotional like this, but Erik had seen how troubled Eleven was when they left Phnom Nohn in a hurry. He squeezed Erik’s shoulder, and smiled wider when the other’s brow smoothed. 

The parade fanned out, and the ones without instruments began working the crowd. They targeted those not dancing around the edges, pulling them into the fray with bright smiles and big gestures. 

Sylvando was singled out first. Then Jade, and Serena shortly after, pulled laughing into the crowd. Two of the older dancers lifted Veronica by her hands, and to Eleven’s surprise, she didn’t utter a single word of complaint. The mood was contagious enough that Rab jumped in on his own, tugging a laughing stranger who couldn’t have been much younger off the sidelines. Hendrik was physically dragged off, his polite palace training (and that which he picked up from his parents) kicking in sooner rather than later. 

That left Eleven and Erik in the back. One of the youngest of the group, Jonah, Eleven remembered, pranced up to them. 

Eleven felt a tangle of emotions seeing him again. One night on the road, he’d had to carry him back to camp. He was in a bad way due to a monster’s spell, mumbling about his datefriend back home who died the first night after Yggdrasil fell. He wondered if they were okay, this time. 

He cooed over the “lovely couple” the two made, leaving Eleven feeling warm and wanting to nuzzle his face into Erik’s hair. He decided against it, if only because he didn’t want to put Erik on the spot more than he already seemed to be. 

“Come on, join the party!” His arms moved in wide, exaggerated gestures. “I know you want to,” he sang. 

The only time Eleven ever got to see Erik dance was when a monster’s spell forced him into it. Were it not so terrifying, it would be an incredible sight; not even Sylvando could make charmed dancing look  _ good _ like Erik could. Though Eleven might be biased. 

Erik laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his hair with his free hand. “I don’t know, I’m not really into crowds. Do you… El?” 

Eleven fought down the disappointment, unsuccessfully. He lifted his arm from Erik’s shoulders, hoping Erik wouldn’t pull away as well. < You don’t have to. >

“Gah,” Erik groaned, “stop giving me that look.” 

< I’m not giving you a look, > Eleven signed, knowing it was a lie. 

“Your puppy eyes are lethal, you know that?” Erik said, putting his hands around Eleven’s waist. “C’mon, dance with me.” 

< You don’t have to. >

“I want to,” Erik insisted. “If it’ll make you happy, I want to. I’d do more than embarrass myself a little bit if you asked it. You know that.” 

Eleven’s fingertips twitched, and he only just stopped himself from saying something that might have been way too much. Jonah squealed, reminding Eleven that there were other people in the world than Erik and himself. 

< I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. >

“I won’t be.” Erik rocked forward on his tiptoes, and kissed Eleven on the forehead. Eleven weighed his option of chasing those lips down. 

He tentatively put his hands on Erik’s shoulders.  _ “You sure?” _ he mouthed. 

Eleven gasped as his balance was suddenly ripped from him, transferred into Erik’s more-than-capable arms. Erik smirked from where he was hovering over him. He leaned in close to whisper, “I’m sure,” against the shell of his ear. 

Eleven shivered.  _ Hot, hot, hot, fuck, just toss me out to the monsters next time. _

Eleven had suspected right; Erik was a damn good dancer. Eleven could only hold on and hope he was keeping up. He wondered if Erik had been taught, where he learned to dance like this. Had he found a teacher? Did he dance in the thieves’ dens he found himself in? 

A million questions bubbled in Eleven’s mind. He wanted to know everything about him. To stay up late, night after night, learning his past. To know his hopes and dreams, and how they changed throughout the years. He tried not to focus on the fear of being just as known. 

They giggled through stumbles, and bounced along to the ever-changing music. Erik’s hands felt both like a brand and like they belonged there, and Eleven would feel their ghost long after they moved, exhausted, to the sidelines. 

\------------

The eight of them managed to find each other for lunch as everyone’s legs (or patience, in poor Hendrik’s case) started to wear out. They had originally planned on going to the inn’s restaurant, but that went out the window when they spotted the crowds spilling out the door. 

The Soldiers of Smile — no, the dancers, Eleven had to remind himself — were ushering tourists to shops and restaurants. Eleven flinched as he saw one pushing a young couple to buy an expensive pair of necklaces. 

He supposed it was only natural they would reflect the commercial nightmare of this town, as long as they all had been working here. He knew little about most of them, aside from their names and what they’d lost. He hadn’t put enough time, enough  _ care, _ into finding out more. Not with monsters breathing down their necks, a dragon kidnapping people, and the friends he was still missing weighing on his mind. 

For all he knew, most of them could have grown up here. 

More than one dancer called after them to spread the word about this town as they all pulled themselves from the party. Eleven couldn’t help but feel this version of the group felt… cheap. In his old timeline, they were heroes. They were saving people and bringing light back to the world, even as Mordegon continued to do his worst to it. Now… 

Now they might as well be walking advertisements for tourism, right? 

* * *

Jade navigated the markets for food, and Rab and Serena set to prepare it. With the two of them on cooking duty, it was likely they would be eating slight variations of the same sandwich Rab loved so much, and some kind of pastry if Serena could get her hands on something that would allow her to bake. 

Everyone pitched in to help pack up, then the group was on their way up the mountain, heaping picnic baskets in hand. 

They stopped at the very top, where the mountain flattened off and overlooked the ruins. Nobody really came up here — too afraid of the mural somehow coming back, Eleven imagined. It was far from unfounded, given the second monster in as many years making its home in the realm beyond. 

Even if most of them knew that realm better than anyone else, the view was still nice. They’d  _ slept _ in more dangerous places. 

Serena and Rab had done an incredible job with the food, especially for having nothing but a campfire hastily made outside of town to prepare it. Eleven still had no idea how Serena managed the plum cobblers with what she had to work with. 

They all gathered in clusters. Eleven with Erik, as always, with the twins sitting nearby teasing them mercilessly. Sylvando and Jade sat on either side of Hendrik, dead set on tormenting the poor man. Rab sat somewhere in the middle between his grandchildren, honorary and biological, not fully joining anyone but rather jumping back and forth between discussions at will. 

Eleven was glad to see Hendrik having grown close with someone, given he was too awkward himself to really talk to him unprompted and Erik was still, understandably, a bit bitter. He got on well enough with the twins and Rab, though with the twins it was more an agreeable alliance than a friendship. With Rab, it was a bond based around something they couldn’t discuss in polite company. 

Eleven took his time eating, and silently observed everyone else’s conversations. Erik and Veronica’s banter was always amusing. Eleven shared a fondly exasperated look with Serena as it once again got out of hand. 

He was somewhat surprised to see how Jade was acting around Hendrik. A far cry from the calm of camping before. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think it was almost… flirtatious? 

It was hard to picture, but he wouldn’t be terribly shocked. Eleven’s biological mother had been a princess, then queen, his father a knight. The young royal with their bodyguard was a bit of a trope in romance literature, with good reason. Still, the royal was often depicted as a precious, helpless little thing, and Jade was anything but. 

Other than “little,” as she stood Erik’s height while in her impossibly high heels. 

He was startled out of his musings by Jade and Sylvando’s laughter. Hendrik had managed to spill his wine down his shirt, and watched helplessly as it continued to soak his clothes. He started dabbing at it with a napkin far too dainty to get the job done, and laughter washed over the rest of them like a flood. 

The food was soon eaten, but nobody was leaving quite yet. They continued to sit, enjoying each other’s company and giving each other shit in the same breath. 

The wind caught a napkin, and conversation stopped as Erik jumped up after it. It was one of Serena’s nice ones, the ones her father embroidered, and it would be a shame if it blew off the mountain. Erik managed to snatch it just before it flew off into the ruins, getting far too close to the edge for Eleven’s comfort. Erik bowed to the ridiculous applause that followed. 

Everyone picked up their abandoned conversations as Erik made his way back to the blankets. He chucked the napkin into the nearest basket, then moved to stand over Eleven. 

“This seat taken?” he asked casually. 

Eleven shook his head, amused and a bit bewildered. 

“Cool, thanks.” Erik dropped into Eleven’s lap. 

Eleven huffed in surprise, before quickly adjusting to the lapful of his surprisingly cuddly boyfriend. Erik wiggled to get comfortable, fortunately taking great care to not get too close to… certain places. 

“Ugh,  _ really,” _ Veronica groaned. 

Eleven shook with laughter, wrapping his arms around his partner. He popped his chin over Erik’s shoulder, leaning their heads together. He wondered if Erik could feel his happiness radiating off his skin. 

“I think it’s sweet,” Serena said, starting to pack up. “Just look at them, Veronica!” 

Veronica scoffed, but Eleven could see the ghost of a smile trying to escape her stony expression. She moved to help, avoiding staring at them for too long. 

Erik started to move off Eleven’s lap to help with the cleanup, but Sylvando quickly poked him back down. Erik looked a bit pink when he glanced back. “Am I gettin’ too heavy?” 

_ Absolutely not. _ Eleven shook his head and cuddled in closer. 

Erik wore one of his usual shirts, well off the collar bones, plunging neckline. It took more than a small blizzard for him to consider covering up any more. He always said that fabric made his throat itch, though his necklace seemed fine. 

The spot where Eleven’s chin sat was mostly bare, and he unconsciously leaned his face more into Erik’s neck. The varied beads of his necklace were smooth, but his skin was softer.  _ So soft, what the hell. _ He sighed. Eleven  _ felt _ Erik swallow, and then shiver. 

He pulled his face back. That was probably too much. He made a fist with his hand and rotated it, clockwise and palm in, in front of Erik’s heart. 

“‘S fine,” Erik whispered. 

“All right,” Veronica huffed, “I don’t feel like watching you two dipshits snogging any more. Someone get off your arse and buy me a drink.” 

Serena got up to follow her. Eleven wanted to call her an enabler, but Veronica was  _ chronologically _ a legal drinking age and it really wasn’t her fault that she was stuck like this. 

< We weren’t- > Eleven stopped himself, not wanting to make a somewhat crude gesture around Erik who was in his  _ lap. _ Even as much as he sometimes wanted Erik’s tongue in his mouth. 

Eleven hid his bugging eyes against Erik’s back.  _ Why did I think about that, why did I think about that…  _

Everyone left in their own time, and eventually Eleven and Erik were the only ones on the mountain. 

Erik seemed content to just lean into him, basking in the togetherness and the warmth of the afternoon sun. Eleven should have been, too. He  _ was _ content. But also… 

_ “I don't feel like watching you two dipshits snogging any more.”  _

Eleven fought down a groan. 

Erik was pretty eager to kiss him like  _ that _ yesterday. But was it too soon to ask again? Would it be weird to? Eleven needed a manual. He wasn’t used to this kind of thing. This kind of  _ want. _

Sure, there was more than one occasion he’d rushed to the shower after Erik came out of it, droplets shimmering on his bare chest and shoulders and  _ arms, _ towel dipping just a bit too low. But outside those bursts of weakness, he’d kept it carefully locked away. And now that he knew he was allowed to feel this way, it all came rushing back like it had never left. 

The way they’d kissed yesterday was new, exciting, and he wanted  _ more. _

“Erik,” he whispered, not able to stand it anymore, “can I-” 

He swallowed the rest of his words. What would he even say? What if it made Erik uncomfortable? 

Erik turned in his lap, taking care to be respectful with his touch. Eleven wasn’t sure if he was too happy about that anymore. “Can you…?”

He let his gaze linger on Erik’s lips before flicking up to catch his eyes. He didn’t  _ mean _ to pout, but nearly eighteen years of using his cute face to get his way left him with some bad habits. 

Erik snickered and brought their mouths together. “Better?” he murmured against his lips, after a too-short kiss. 

Eleven was honest to a fault. And he knew, from Erik’s darkening expression, that absolutely  _ nothing _ in his own face said that he was  _ “better.”  _

“El,” Erik whispered. That was the last thing Eleven heard before his brain melted. 

* * *

Eleven kissed like a man starving. Erik had been in for quite a shock, though he hadn’t known it before yesterday. Eleven always seemed so soft and innocent, embarrassed or downright clueless when anything more mature than hand-holding came up, so Erik figured he’d never see that side of him. But no. 

Eleven was clawing at the fabric of Erik’s shirt, making desperate little noises when Erik did… pretty much  _ anything. _ “Responsive” didn’t even cut it. Eleven was a mess and they’d barely started. 

While they’d found out one or two things he didn’t like yesterday, it seemed there was quite little he didn’t  _ thoroughly _ enjoy when his mouth was involved. Erik wondered if there was anywhere else he’d happily put his mouth. He flinched at the thought, but it was a bit late to scrub it from his mind. 

_ Nope! Not going there! _

While Eleven wasn’t exactly a natural, his eagerness more than made up for a lack of skill and he took to instruction like a duck to water. He seemed hellbent on making Erik enjoy himself first, which was… new. 

The fabric of Erik’s tunic drew further into Eleven’s tight grip with every sound Eleven pulled out of him. It was as if Erik’s own pleasure felt every bit as good to Eleven as his own. And speaking of Eleven’s own… 

Erik flicked his tongue behind Eleven’s front teeth, where it tickled. Eleven moaned into his mouth, and his arms threaded around, tugging Erik further up his lap. Erik redirected the movement before things could get… interesting, but he was just a little too close for it to be innocent. 

With more self control than he thought he had, he twisted himself fully around, moving off Eleven’s lap and sliding their sides together as he threw his arms around Eleven’s shoulders.  _ Whew, almost had a problem there. _

He did have a problem, but as long as that  _ problem _ wasn’t rubbing up into Eleven’s stomach, his long tunic and tight pants could conceal it well enough. The last thing he wanted was for Eleven to feel rushed. He knew all too well what that felt like. 

Mouths separated. Both breathed heavily, heads dropping against each other’s shoulders. The shirt Eleven wore today was soft, though a bit too warm for Erik’s tastes. Touching it didn’t help the heat under his collar. That might have been Eleven himself, though. 

Erik shivered at the puffs of breath cooling his throat. That wasn’t a fluke, then? Was he really getting aroused from Eleven  _ breathing _ on him, or was it something else? 

Eleven hummed softly, nuzzling into Erik’s neck. He pressed light kisses where his face rested. 

_ “Oh,” _ Erik breathed, fire licking through his abdomen.  _ Oh no. _ He clamped his mouth shut. 

Eleven pulled back, concern clouding his gaze. “Are you okay?” he whispered. “Was that too much?” 

_ Erik _ would be too much for Eleven if he kept at it.  _ Sheesh, I hope this doesn’t awaken anything in me. _

“It’s fine,” his traitorous mouth said instead. His voice cracked, doubling the embarrassment. 

Eleven’s brows pinched. 

Erik braced himself. “Felt good, okay?” he finally admitted. “I just,” he mumbled the last bit, “didn’t wanna freak you out.” 

Eleven gave him a soft smile, looking like he was hiding a smug grin underneath. He let up on the startlingly arousing kisses for now, instead bringing Erik into his arms, where he’d stay for a good long while yet. It still wasn’t long enough. 

* * *

Erik and Jade took point in the mission to secure rooms from the horribly overcrowded inn. They were small enough to squeeze through the crowds, aggressive enough to shove when necessary, and tall enough to not get trampled. 

Eleven sat out in the quietest place he could find. He probably should have gone too, but with the crowds, he wouldn’t have had much room to shift his weight in line, let alone converse. Not to mention how loud it would be. 

Sylvando disappeared again right after lunch. Eleven occasionally saw him working the crowds with the dancers as if he’d been with them the whole time. As if the shattering of the time sphere didn’t rip him away from them. 

Eleven broke from his musing when a pair of dancers, surely not much older than him if that, invaded his space with rushed apologies. He didn't recognize either of them, though the one with brown hair struck him as oddly familiar. 

“Hurry, love, we’re due back out in five,” the one with brown hair said, as the blond one pulled out a small bag. 

The other rotated through make-up with an inhuman speed, and even managed to speak through it without pause. “I received another letter from my father yesterday,” he said, switching objects, dropping the first in place with an impressive muscle memory. Eleven didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but they’d sat down right in front of him, on a bench mere feet away. 

“Oh no,” the first hummed, closing his eyes and not flinching even as his eyelids were attacked by bright colors. “Did you open it?” 

“You already know the answer. I keep hoping that he- tilt your head up a slight bit, would you- that he’ll realize I do not wish to be a carpenter, and reconnect with the person I  _ am _ rather than the one whom he wants me to be.” 

“I don’t wanna be a farmer, either. ‘Aven’t spoke to nan in months. I’ve accepted it’s never gonna happen. I’m just glad I found a purpose ‘ere, y’know?” 

The blond one paused in his movements, a thin brush of some kind suspended in his hand halfway to the other’s face. “I can’t- I don’t wish to lose him forever. We were all we had for each other when mother made off.” 

A sigh. “Have ya even told ‘im?” 

Eyes falling to the ground, the blond shook his head. 

The other put a hand on his shoulder, a stern expression dragging his companion’s gaze to meet his eyes. “You already know what I’m gonna say. ‘S long as you keep your trap shut, ‘e’s gonna expect ya to be the person he’s always seen you as.” 

“I… I know that, Clay, I just- oh, we’re going to be late.” 

Clay crossed his arms, not budging. 

“I… okay. I’ll think on it, okay? Would you mind too terribly if we save this conversation for later? We really are about to be late.” 

With a simple nod in answer, the two scurried back down to the town’s center together. 

Eleven was left wondering what the hell just happened. Was he invisible? Why was it that people were always having insanely personal discussions right in front of him!? 

* * *

“Eleven,” a familiar singsongy voice called. 

Eleven startled, wondering how someone so colorful always managed to get the jump on him. Sylvando walked up the steps, a dancer on each arm. 

“These sweeties  _ insist _ I join the next performance. You’ll come with me, won’t you?”

Eleven swallowed down the pang of nostalgia. < As long as I won’t be any trouble? >

The dancers scrambled to encourage him on, emphasizing that any friend of  _ The Great Sylvando _ was more than welcome. It was a change — a good one, Eleven thought, nodding, already being dragged down to the lower area of the city — that people would vie for his attention, not because he was the Luminary, but because they considered a friend of his to be important. 

In all the chaos, Eleven sometimes forgot that his friend was famous under his own merits. A lot of them were, in fact. It was something he wanted to do a better job at remembering. He felt a lot less lonely when he did.

The dancers walked Eleven through the moves, ones he was already all too familiar with. They gushed about how quickly he took to it. 

_ That  _ was certainly new. Sylvando had been the only one patient enough to teach him in the old timeline. He supposed muscle memory, in place of any real talent, served him well. They didn’t need to know that he had their whole routine memorized already. 

He spun to a stop, adding the flourish at the end that Sylvando had spent multiple nights making sure he got right. Gasps all around —  _ Did I mess up? Did I… hit someone? _

“That! That thing with the spinning!” one of the dancers cried. “Do it again!” 

Eleven repeated the movement, taking extra care to do it right, away from any unfortunate onlooker. 

“Oh, I  _ knew _ you would be perfect for this!” Sylvando cooed. “Look at you, already thinking up your own little moves!” 

_ Oh, spirits, that was Sylv’s influence, wasn’t it? _ Eleven had no way to apologize for plagiarizing him; Sylvando didn’t even know. 

Instead of letting the guilt take over, Eleven did his best to teach Sylvando what he had once taught him. He only had to run through it a few times for Sylvando to get it. To Eleven’s relief, Sylvando took over teaching the rest. He couldn’t very well speak on his own while his body was occupied with fans and dancing. 

He focused on demonstrating alongside Sylvando, up until the point a familiar shade of blue touched the corner of his vision. He came to a sudden halt, and Sylvando would have likely whacked him in the side of the head with a fan, were he any less trained. 

“Oopsie!” Sylvando said, redirecting his arm over Eleven’s head rather than  _ through _ it at the last second. “What is wrong, dear?” He followed Eleven’s gaze.  _ “Ah.” _

< I’m clingy, aren’t I? It’s been less than an hour. >

“You are in  _ love,” _ Sylvando said plainly. Eleven felt his heart rate trip at the word. “Besides, he is the one who came to you. Go, go!” He shoved Eleven lightly. 

That was all the permission Eleven’s feet needed, moving before his mind had the chance to catch up. He only realized he was half a breath from running when the shout of one of the dancers stopped him. 

“Wait, hang on!” The person who spoke had left about twenty minutes before, shortly after Eleven had started working out the new movement. He jogged up to Eleven, holding out a package. 

Eleven looked at it curiously, trying to discern its contents as the dancer shook it in his face. < What’s this? > he signed before taking it, if only to calm the other enough for an explanation. 

“It’s your costume! I know you have to leave tomorrow, but I wanted to give you a reason to come back, so I whipped it up.” 

With a reverent touch, Eleven opened the carefully-bundled pack. Feathers. Tights. A familiar shade of lavender. He was going to cry again, but carefully stuffed his emotions, not knowing how he could explain away the tears. He had one already, identical to this, but they didn't need to know that. 

< You made this in so little time? > Eleven asked, flabbergasted, after tucking it carefully in his pouch. 

“Duh, how long does it take  _ you _ to make a dress? An hour?” He laughed. “Silly. I know it doesn’t match ours, but this is more your color, no? Besides, I think the Luminary should be allowed to stand out.” 

Eleven managed to not cringe. Perhaps, if they were able to treat him as an equal despite knowing, then them putting him in lavender was no different from the sunset shades of Sylvando’s. 

“How were they able to tell?” Sylvando stage-whispered into Eleven’s ear. 

Eleven huffed a laugh. < I don’t wear gloves, Sylv. > He pointed to the Mark. < How many people are there that you know who can summon lightning, anyway? >

The dancer laughed as Eleven turned away. He smiled to himself, hearing the chatter behind him. They were all so…  _ happy. _ They may not be heroes, but they were safe here. 

Eleven stopped in his tracks as the realization hit him like one of his own thunderbolts. They were  _ safe _ here.  _ They aren’t heroes because I did my job and took danger out of the equation, just as I was supposed to. _ Remembering how it rubbed him the wrong way earlier, he felt terrible now. He shouldn’t wish a life of fear and uncertainty on them — it wasn’t fair. 

“You okay?” Erik asked, far closer than Eleven thought he was. He’d moved to meet Eleven when he stopped. 

< Yeah, just- > Eleven took Erik’s hand, his soothing presence dulling the guilt, < lost in thought, sorry. >

* * *

The group only managed to score one room with two beds. It would be one hell of a tight fit; the worst they’ve had in a while, though certainly not the worst by far. 

The twins would take one of the beds, to Veronica’s chagrin and everyone else’s insistence. Serena tried to convince her sister that it was because it was her turn to have the spotlight, but Veronica knew damn well it was because nobody wanted to see a kid sleeping on the floor. 

Rab, old and fussy as he was, would take the other. He offered to share, but few could put up with sharing a  _ room _ with his snores, let alone a bed. 

For now, though, everyone save Erik and Eleven was out dancing or navigating the market. Erik was tired of carrying his backpack around — he certainly hadn’t kept it with him as an excuse to be the one to show Eleven the room. That would be ridiculous. 

“We asked for some extra blankets so nobody would get splinters in their asses,” Erik said, stuffing his pack into the closet. “They said they’d send some up before the evening.” 

Eleven nodded along, sitting on the bed. It was hard to tell if he was paying attention. He examined something in his hands, wrapped up in a neat package that he had partially unwound. 

“What  _ is _ that, anyhow?” 

Eleven held up a purple and white dress. He set it back on his lap to sign, < One of the dancers gave this to me after practice. He wanted to make sure I would come back, I think. >

“Oh,” Erik said, trying to visualize Eleven wearing  _ anything _ but his silly duster or armor. “Do you like it?” 

Eleven nodded, smiling with a faraway look. Erik couldn’t figure out what was going on in his head. < He said it’s my color. You think so? >

“I’d imagine just about anything would suit  _ you,” _ Erik muttered, not quite aware the whole phrase was out loud until Eleven ducked his head with a shy chuckle. Erik’s face grew warm. “I- I mean, I’d have to see it, right? Why don’t you try it on?” 

Eleven nodded and stood. Erik stepped out of the path toward the wash room, and was completely blindsided when Eleven started unbuttoning his duster right there in the middle of the room. 

As if by yanking his own invisible puppet strings, Erik spun around. He could feel the weight of a panicked noise on his tongue, and swallowed it just in time. 

He didn’t know why he was suddenly freaking out. It wasn’t as though he’d never seen a man undress in front of him. Hell, he and Eleven would often change together whenever they were in enough of a hurry. But they hadn’t yet been in such a hurry through the few short days their relationship had been a romantic one, and Erik hadn’t known where they stood on that front. 

Until now, apparently. He wondered if it had been weird of him to turn away — if it would be even weirder to turn back. Probably… right? He didn’t know if Eleven was ready for that kind of attention. If he was ready to be giving it. 

“Erik?” Eleven whispered. 

Erik looked over his shoulder and felt something lodge in his throat. 

Eleven stood with his back mostly turned toward Erik. He wore unusually nice shoes,  _ tights, _ and a dress that hung open in the back. His hair just brushed his shoulder blades —  _ when had it gotten so long? _ — cascading down his bare neck like a waterfall, and Erik was  _ thirsty. _

“Could you ‘elp me with the zipper?” 

_ Sweet goddess using Yggdrasil as a broom sweeping the floors of  _ heaven _ I’m going to die. _

Erik crossed the room, overly conscious of how quickly he did so. Once close enough, it took him a shameful amount of time to gather his frazzled thoughts. He gently brushed Eleven’s hair out of the way, trying and failing to not fixate on the exposed skin beneath, and reached for the zipper with the other hand. 

He dropped it three times. On the third, a curse accompanied his fumbling, as did a giggle from Eleven. 

“Yeah, yeah, ‘what happened to your sticky fingers,’ right?” he grumbled, finally getting enough of a grip, both mentally and literally, to zip him up. 

“How do you do that?” Eleven whispered. 

“Do what?” Erik asked, brushing his hair back into place. 

“Read my mind.” Eleven turned to face him fully, Erik’s hand still in his hair. “I mean, even when I can’t talk to you either way, you know exactly what I want to tell you.” 

Erik twirled a strand of hair around his fingers as he thought of how to answer. “I mean, in that situation everyone would have been fighting to say it first,” Erik said. He was just a bit too easy to tease. “But, uh, I know you  _ really _ well, man. At least I like to think I do.” 

Eleven cupped Erik’s hand against the side of his head, gaze a million miles away. “I like to think that, too,” he whispered. 

Though desperate to chase whatever that thought was, wherever Eleven might lead him, Erik couldn’t stop his rambling tongue. “And the more I know about you, the more I fall in-” He drew the reins hard on that one, his mind screaming  _ too soon, too soon! _ “Uh. The more I fall for you. So that’s-” 

He was saved from further embarrassing himself by a knock on the door. 

Erik reluctantly pulled away to answer, Eleven following close behind. It was one of the inn’s staff, as requested, far earlier than expected. The blankets were scratchy, but it was better than nothing, and  _ far _ better than the bedrolls they used for the road, in dire need of washing. 

“I’m not sure this’ll be enough for everyone, Erik said when the door shut. “Think some of us are gonna have to share. Hey-” he reached out and gave Eleven’s bangs a light tug- “when everyone gets back we’re making sure I get dibs on the Luminary. You’ll back me up, yeah?” 

Eleven rolled his eyes good-naturedly. Erik could see him fighting laughter. Rather than answering, he kissed the corner of Erik’s mouth. 

“That a yes?” Erik teased, the tremor in his voice hopefully unnoticeable.  _ How did that feel more intimate than kissing full on the mouth?!  _

Eleven spread his hands, palms facing outward —  _ obviously. _ “Come on,” he whispered. “I want to try dancing in this, and I don’t want to ‘it my shins on the beds.” 

* * *

Eleven pulled Erik up the mountain, jogging up the steps and stopping at the top. Erik had no idea how he wasn’t winded — dancing all day and making this trek  _ twice, _ he couldn’t be human. Erik’s lungs screamed in protest, but he did his best to look unaffected. He couldn’t go and look weak in front of one of the few people he wanted to impress. 

Eleven, to his credit, had a single minded enthusiasm which seemed to distract from Erik’s poorly-concealed wheezing. He left Erik to catch his breath as he marked out a spot with enough room. Once he found a place he liked, he started stretching. 

Erik hadn’t known that there were so many different stretches, nor that Eleven was that… flexible. He quickly looked away as Eleven reached for his toes. He probably wouldn’t appreciate Erik ogling him over something so innocent. 

Or would he? 

Would Erik appreciate it, if the situation were reversed, if Eleven was looking? He’d said before that he didn’t mind, but he also didn’t think Eleven actually would… 

Erik squirmed in place, trying to remember that time a slug crawled up his leg while he was bathing,  _ anything _ to distract his mind from the idea of Eleven looking at his ass and  _ liking what he saw. _ Somewhere between Hendrik’s dirty socks and a seasick Jade barfing on his shoes, he cooled down. 

And just in time, too. 

The sound of fans sliding open drew his attention. Eleven gave him a grin — a full, toothy grin, so rare on a normally withdrawn face — and posed. Erik might say it was just like how the dancers looked, on the occasion they would stand still. But he couldn’t think of a single dancer whose beauty could ever compare. 

The parade routine was comical. It was  _ supposed _ to be comical. Erik had taken formal lessons; he knew from experience that it was something silly to lighten hearts. 

Eleven moved like he was born dancing. Gone was the man who could barely keep up with the tempo as he stumbled after Erik. Erik had no idea who had taken his clumsy partner and, in just an afternoon, managed to make him into this. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to feel jealous or shake their hand. Eleven moved with a grace he usually reserved for the battlefield. 

As Erik watched Eleven, he was watched in turn. He could feel the eyes begging him to be impressed. And he was. 

He didn’t hide it, either, clapping and whistling when Eleven would pull off a move Erik knew was hard for beginners, especially when he glanced back. An audience of one, but Erik was going to make up for it. 

Eleven was practically glowing when he came to a stop. He did a spinning bow as Erik started to applaud him again, not unlike Sylv in a way, albeit more reserved. A pride all his own. 

Erik shook his stinging hands, and found himself with an armful of sweaty boyfriend. 

“So,” Eleven whispered, “I take it you’re a fan?” He tapped one of his fans against Erik’s back. 

“Of course I am, I-” Erik blinked. “You… little jerk, was that a pun?” 

“‘Little,’ I’m taller than you,” he hummed, snickering. 

“That’s just the heels.” 

Eleven snorted, bumping Erik with the toe of his flat-heeled shoe. Erik wasn’t going to back down now. He wasn’t sure if this was flirting or it was just  _ them. _ He wasn’t sure if there was a line between the two. 

Eleven showed no sign of wanting to break the hug, so Erik was going to bask in it until he did. Tucking his head under Eleven’s chin, he sighed, “You stink.” 

“You stank the first several weeks I knew you, and I managed to fall for you anyway.” 

Erik was glad Eleven couldn’t see his quickly-heating face. “Since the very start?” 

Eleven shifted in his arms. “Not sure, actually. I just realized one day that I’d completely…” 

When Eleven stayed silent, Erik pulled away. Eleven smiled and shook his head, hands staying on Erik’s hips. 

_ Well I sure killed the mood. _ “You liiike me,” Erik teased.  _ Wow! Even better! _

Fortunately, Eleven giggled. Looked like jokes could get Erik out of more than misshot pick-up lines at the bar. 

“Was that even a question?” Eleven tapped one of his fans to Erik’s chest. “You do too.” 

“Yeah, I like me too. You caught me.” 

Eleven laughed, shining like the sun. It wasn’t even that funny, but there were certain things that make people stupid. 

Certain things that made people find humor in the littlest things, that made people jump off cliffs and face down murderers. 

Certain things that made them willing to follow someone anywhere, to want to be together all the time, and to blurt out- 

“I love you.” 

It took both of them a moment to fully absorb what Erik said. Then the mountaintop felt very quiet, save for the sound of fans clattering against stone. 

_ Fuck fuck fuck fuck fUCK FUCK-  _

Eleven took a step back, eyes wide, hands covering his mouth. 

_ You’ve been together for less than a week! _ Erik’s mind shouted at him. _ It’s way too soon to be saying that kind of thing! _

Erik opened his mouth, then closed it again. He didn’t know what to say, what he could possibly say to fix what just happened. 

Eleven quickly crossed the distance he’d made between them. Erik flinched. It wasn’t that he expected Eleven to ever hit him, it was just a hard habit to break. Getting smacked for saying stupid shit, or  _ anything, _ through most of his younger years had that effect. 

The feeling of loss was more than Erik could bear. His mind ran through the last few days, the hugs, the kisses, the shy words of affection, all ruined because Erik couldn't keep his mouth shut about this one thing. 

But Eleven wasn’t telling him off, or walking away, or anything like that. It was none of the horror Erik expected. None of the things he would have experienced before. He was out of his depths, with Eleven hugging him so tight Erik could hardly breathe. 

“Sorry,” Erik mumbled, relaxing into the hold but not returning it. “I know it’s too soon, I’m sorry, I just…” 

He quieted as Eleven shook his head. He felt cold, despite his partner’s warmth. Maybe they could just pretend it never happened. Maybe he could have a second chance. 

Eleven cupped Erik’s cheek, trailing kisses across the other. He left a lingering kiss on the lips. Erik melted at the touch. Eleven pulled back to look him in the eye, then took Erik’s hand in his. Before Erik could scrape the goop that was once his brain off the dirt road below, he was kissed again. 

Eleven slowly lifted their joined hands, moving so their palms were flat against each other’s. As Erik moved to lace their fingers together, it seemed Eleven had other plans, avoiding Erik’s efforts and folding his middle and ring finger down. 

Erik’s breath hitched as he finally realized what Eleven was saying. 

_ I love you, too. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Was that a-" yes that was a reference to The Ogler's Digest by Claranon, when I implied Ruby was the artist behind it. Love ya Clara!!

**Author's Note:**

> As always, if you liked it, please drop a kudos, or a comment if you're feeling brave! Even a smiley face to let me know you enjoyed it would make me very happy!  
> Let me know what stuck out to you!
> 
> [Tumblr](https://nedrynwrites.tumblr.com/)  
> Feel free to comment/message me if you have questions! I love talking to you!


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